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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29778342">Without a Warning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puppetlarreh/pseuds/Puppetlarreh'>Puppetlarreh</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Harry, Childhood Trauma, Drama, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Emotional Roller Coaster, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Love at First Sight, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Self-Discovery, Strangers to Lovers, Top Louis Tomlinson, Touch-Starved, Trauma, Violence, larry stylinson - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:34:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>36,451</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29778342</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puppetlarreh/pseuds/Puppetlarreh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry hadn't seen it coming, none of it. From his parents divorce to the beautiful stranger that came into his life like a falling star, lighting his darkest nights and making his deepest wish come true. But the thing with shooting stars was that they only last for a moment.<br/>It had to be a dream, a fragment of his imagination or maybe it was a guardian angel? Sent from above to fix him, teach him. An angel that would appear when he was most needed, but would disappear without a warning. How could someone be so... Healing, compassionate, alluring. Harry was about to meet his saving grace, a man who would leave him questioning everything.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Styles &amp; Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles/Original Male Character(s), Niall Horan/Original Female Character(s), Zayn Malik/Liam Payne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 00</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/anuschkaLova/gifts">anuschkaLova</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi!<br/>Thank you for reading, it means a lot.<br/>It has been a while since I have written anything and am trying to get back into it all. This is story with on going chapters, which I will try and be consistent with updating!<br/>I really appreciate any kudos or comments left!<br/>Enjoy and have a fantastic day!</p><p>~ Also, a quick thank you to Anni. Thank you for encouraging me to write again! I appreciate you and your genius for helping me when I get writers block. You're a star!~</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Humans are wired to touch.</p><p>Our desire for physical contact is always filled, from loving cuddling to a reassuring touch of the wrist.</p><p>However, on rare occasions, there are some humans who are starved of such affection. Touch deprivation, if you will. It's not just sensual touches, simply missing out on a friendly handshake or a pat on the back can leave someone feeling starved.</p><p>Harry had been fighting for that physical connection since he was a young boy. It wasn't like he had grown up deprived of love from his parents, nor from his sister, he grew up in doting home. He was surrounded by so much affection, especially from his mother. He could have been mistaken for a mama's boy. Always at her side.</p><p>Growing up, Harry was told magical tales of love. Stories of soulmates and meant to be meetings. It was definitely a reason he set his expectations of love high as a child, but why wouldn't it? Watching his own parents live out their own fairy tale, through rose tinted glasses, love and life seemed perfect. It was the way they held hands in the street on their family days out or how they cuddled up on the sofa while they all watched corny movies together.</p><p>Over the years, that slowly fizzled out. Harry noticed the way that his mother would sit on one end of the sofa and his father on the other, himself and Gemma tucked between them. It was almost as if you could pick the tension straight out of the air. His conversations with his mother became more blunt, she always seemed to be busy arguing with his father, whether it was on the phone or in person. She never had time for their nightly cuddles in bed and night time stories. It went from that, to being tucked in under his blanket and a quick kiss on the head and then ended with him just being tucked in.</p><p>Okay, he was getting older and he should probably be over all that, but that didn't take away from the fact that he enjoyed getting to listen to her mellifluous voice as she told him stories. The way she would put on whimsical voices for each character, leaving him in stitches most evenings. Her arm wrapped around him, tracing shapes on his skin while she spoke.<br/>That was when life was easy. When Harry knew what affection was.</p><p>Watching his parents' marriage fall apart in front of him over the years had certainly knocked the glasses off Harry's face. It was like hitting a brick wall. Everything that was one rosy now left a somber feeling.</p><p>It wasn't until his parents split up that Harry had begun to understand the meaning of love, or what he thought the meaning was. Marriage was just full of pain, disloyalty and bottling things up. Where was the happiness he heard in the stories his mother described.</p><p>Love and happy endings only happen in fairy tales.</p><p>All those moments brought Harry here. Fingers trailing over his thigh, lightly tracing over the slight raised skin of his newest tattoo, counting each whisker.<br/><em>One, two, three. </em><br/><em>Four, five, six, seven</em>.</p><p>Harry's hands travelled further up to his hips, using the tip of his middle finger to trail over the sculpture of his own body, taking in each divot and line across his lower abdomen . It certainly wasn't the same as another person's touch, but it would have to be enough for now.</p><p>"Harry" A deep voice echoed through the door, muffled by the water that surrounded him.</p><p>Even though the water drowned out most of the sound, Harry knew exactly whose voice it was. Strangely enough, even with the pressing tone that seeped through the water, Harry had no urgency to get out of his bath yet.</p><p>The voice was gruff, the sound of a smoker that had just woken up from a night of drinking. Zayn, his oldest friend. A man who Harry trusted with his life,  even if he thought Zayn would be the one to cause his death one day. It was ironic, really.</p><p>Another call of his name, causing him to sit up out of the water this time, letting out a soft groan as he gently pushed his soaked curls back out of his face. As the water ran down his cheekbones, he slowly opened his eyes, hearing his name being screamed again, this time with the impact of a fist hitting the old wooden door.</p><p>"Alright, alright!" Harry groaned, slowly climbing out of the roll top bath tub and wrapping his blue cotton towel around his slim waist.</p><p>With his feet padding along the cold tile floor, Harry stopped at the mirror to let his eyes gaze over his damp skin and letting a shiver run down his spine as his soggy curls dripped down. He was quick to dry his body and slip on a pair of black jeans with a black knitted jumper that looked rather baggy on him. A plain black top on underneath.</p><p>"I need a piss, Harry!"</p><p>Harry groaned in annoyance, turning on his heel quickly and pulling the door open sharply, looking at his roommate.</p><p>"Alright, Zayn!" Harry snapped and grabbed a spare towel to roughly dry his hair before picking up his pile of dirty clothes, stepping aside so his friend could burst into the room.</p><p>"Put some shorts on, Harry. It's over thirty degrees outside." Zayn stated playfully, giving Harry a wink as he passed. Harry decided to ignore him and headed to his room at the end of the hall, stumbling over a few beer bottles along the way.</p><p>Living in a tiny apartment with his insane best friends was probably the worst mistake he had made in life thus far. There were parties most nights, which they never cleaned up after. Hardly anyone got privacy and people were always stealing things from each other's rooms. Harry had grown tired of it, deciding the only way he was going to stop the boys and random strangers entering his room was to get a lock. And it worked wonders.</p><p>A guy needs his privacy.</p><p>Harry dropped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling as he listened to the boys bicker about who can and can't be invited to yet another party they were planning. A flat full of drunk and horny young adults, grinding up against each other till the sun rose, was an almost nightly occurrence in this apartment. As usual he would hide away in his room till everyone went home, being the antisocial hermit crab that he was.</p><p>There was just no time for parties these days.</p><p>That was the excuse.</p><p>He was once a party person, back when he was a freshman, throwing huge parties and getting absolutely smashed. But then his friends started going to parties without him. They slowly started to hang out with him less. So in the end, he decided that if they didn't want him there, he wouldn't turn up at all. It'd been that way for months.</p><p>Harry knew he had classes to attend but couldn't bring himself to go, he had been skipping days every now and then due to the fact he physically couldn't bring himself through those doors. It was as though there was a dark shadow hanging over the doors that he could never bring himself to walk through, feeling as though it clung to him like a weighted blanket for the rest of day if he did.</p><p>With the best ill voice he could muster, he slowly pulled out his phone and called in sick once again. At this point, he was sure they knew he was faking it, he was just grateful that they never asked for a sick note from his doctor. He'd email his professor later to get any of the work he missed out on sent over.</p><p>Harry finally sat up and headed downstairs to make himself a cup of tea and some toast, groaning loudly as he was attacked by one of his house mates.</p><p>"Niall, will you please stop jumping on my back?" Harry asked, trying to shrug his friend off. "You're not a damn koala."</p><p>"Oh, you miserable git. I'm only trying to cheer you up before class." Niall hummed, flicking out his pointer fingers and jabbing Harry's side in a playful manner.</p><p>None of this was the type of touch Harry longed for. This was the type that simply annoyed Harry, left his skin crawling — yet longing for more. Maybe it was the thought of it being the closest he could get to what he desired.</p><p>"I'm not going to my classes. I'm studying at home again today" Harry replied, shrugging his heavy shoulders as he boiled the kettle, swatting Niall's hands away quickly.</p><p>"Suit yourself." Niall huffed and walked away, off to Zayn.</p><p>Harry leant back against the counter, cradling his obscenely decorated mug with both hands while he watched his two roommates interact. The two of them were complete idiots and their actions proved it. The both of them were often bad influences on the other, ending in them getting into all sorts of mischief and trouble. It left Harry feeling like he was the adult of the house, babysitting two naughty toddlers who just did whatever they felt like.</p><p>Between the two of them, they discussed the party that was taking place that evening, sharing devious glances at Harry and snickering to themselves while Harry placed two pieces of brown bread into the toaster.</p><p>"We are getting you drunk tonight, Harry. Bring back the old you." One called out with a smirk. Harry didn't really care for who said it — it was said.</p><p>With that, they disappeared out the old, dirty white, wooden door and left Harry to himself. Which was a terrible idea, honestly. Once he heard the thud of the heavy door, he buttered his toast and slowly walked upstairs, sitting crossed legged on his bed once he was there.</p><p>He often allowed himself to get lost in thought, letting himself daydream of the life he wanted after university. The career he wanted to pursue, a happy and healthy relationship where his need for affection was fulfilled. He hoped that one day he wouldn't find himself doing things that in some way would simulate touch, like his hot baths he took.</p><p>That's when his thoughts go back to his future boyfriend, the man with no face. At the moment, anyway. Laying in a royal blue, roll top bath tub with him, the man's hands all over him so he didn't have to anymore. Appreciating his body, his curves and every other detail. He imagined coming home from a long day at work and being engulfed in a tight hug, one that was so tight that it made him lose his breath. Fingers trailing up and down his back while being asked how his day was.</p><p>Then again, maybe he would never know the feeling of another person's touch, not in the way he longed for. He wondered if he would ever shake that anxious feeling. He knew it was certainly the reason that he now avoided secure attachments to anyone or anything.</p><p>Placing his empty plate on his bedside table, he finished sipping his tea, putting the TV on and was now watching films. He just wanted to fill that empty and silent space in his head before it could be filled with more random thoughts of the man with no face.</p><p>Though, Harry's attention was brought to his phone shortly after, it was Niall. The alert was persistent, ringing through his ears like a wind chime on on a particularly breezy day. He had changed it to a quiet chime, trying to make it less aggravating but with the amount of times he heard it, it was just as irritating. Harry was quick to turn his phone off after receiving a few calls from the lad, knowing Niall was going to brag about how he had been invited to a party or how he had made out with some girl in the back alley of the university grounds.</p><p>Like that would impress Harry.</p><p>It was dirty and a little creepy, no?</p><p>You could say Niall was one of the 'popular people' in his classes — as was Zayn — so getting a call from them telling him about their new notch on the bed post wasn't uncommon. Harry had been one of the favoured, until he woke up in a stranger's bed. After that fiasco, Harry wasn't so popular anymore. Now he was just a guy people heard about, whispers around the university of what he did.</p><p>Ten months into his freshman year, just as it was coming to an end, Harry had gone to a party one evening and had gotten blindingly drunk. He woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and was cuddled up with some naked man, a complete stranger in fact. Harry wasn't even sure he went to the same uni.</p><p>Harry had gotten out of the house so quickly that he didn't even get a good look at the man's face, just wanting to leave all the panic behind him.</p><p>Though, he seemed to vividly remember the room. The dusty lilac walls that were decorated with brightly coloured paintings and sketches, all signed with what looked like a butterfly entwined with the letter J. The desk in the far corner was covered in paints, pens and all other sorts of art supplies. The chair was neatly tucked under it and a lilac jumper was laid over the back, small speckles and smudges of paint all over it.</p><p>The butterfly remained imprinted in his head, of course. It was such a unique marking.</p><p>Anyway, after that whole debacle, Harry wasn't so popular, even his friends had distanced themselves. Or felt that way. It seemed that the fact that it was a guy he had woken up with was the reason a lot of people turned on him, as much as he would like to think society was more accepting, it certainly wasn't the case in his home town.</p><p>Deep down he thought that maybe his friends knew he was gay, with the way he acted and the things he allowed himself to say in front of them. So when they heard about his naked man situation and took a step back, it hurt Harry. But he also understood, he wouldn't want to associate himself with someone like that if he was in their shoes, not knowing what he knew now.</p><p>Who would? Especially in this old town.</p><p>Harry knew that he could trust the two of them behind closed doors, as big of idiots as they were, they cared for the curly haired lad and he cared for them. Of course he knew they would always have his back, if he really needed it.</p><p>Right now, he had the party to think about. He had to remember to control himself with the alcohol tonight. He really didn't want a repeat of that disaster. The last night that he had gotten any affection, from what he remembered — which wasn't a lot.</p><p>All that Harry could remember from that night was getting into the pastel coloured bed, letting his head drop on the strangers bare, heaving chest, listening to the beat of his heart. It pounded against Harry's ear as though he was nervous in some way. Maybe he was simply out of breath for a reason that was a blank space in Harry's mind.</p><p>Either way, that was the moment he wanted to relive, over and over. The simplicity of it all. He wanted to remember the way his fingers felt trailing up and down the man's silky skin. He dreamt of the weight the man's arm left as it was draped over his side, holding him in a protective manner.</p><p>Like Harry was fragile, afraid to break him if he made any sudden movement.</p><p>Harry somehow brought himself out of his thoughts enough to grab his plate and head down to the kitchen, looking around at the disgusting state of their apartment. Beer bottles, red plastic cups and other party orientated objects were scattered all over the place, making it feel more like a zoo than a home.</p><p>Cleaning was his next task for the day, for sure.</p><p>It gave him a distraction for the day, to stop himself from overthinking how everything was going to go tonight. It gave him a moment to breathe, remind himself it was okay to be reckless sometimes.</p><p>A person's character isn't determined by their mistakes but by how they take those mistakes and learn from them, rather than use them as excuses.</p><p>Harry couldn't use it as an excuse anymore. He learnt his lesson. He understood that he had to go easy on the booze tonight and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't end up in another sticky situation that would leave him baffled.</p><p>Remember.</p><p>
  <em>Just breathe.</em>
</p><p>Humans are made to make mistakes...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 01</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cleaning the house always seemed to be a monstrous task, considering the sheer scale of it. Even though Harry only ever had to clean the living area, it still took time. No one but Harry seemed to clean up after parties, pots and pans, glasses and dishes were never touched once they were used. Harry was practically a maid in his own home. But that didn't bother Harry, at least he knew they were cleaned adequately.</p><p>The house itself was a dated, middle class, Victorian home. It's subdued red brick structure was broken up and brought to life by the off white trims, boarding, windows and door frames. It was the epitome of elegance and historical architecture, a picturesque property that was tucked away in a cul-de-sac that was dominated by other student housing.</p><p>The house had been turned into two large flats, Harry and his two roommates were on the top floor and the ground floor flat was yet to be filled. It was a blessing really, Harry didn't have the worry of their parties keeping their neighbours up. Zayn had come up with the genius idea of using the other flat to avoid overcrowding in their own floor, spreading the party out gave them the opportunity to have bigger parties.</p><p>Harry hadn't realised how much time had passed while he was cleaning, before he knew it Zayn and the Irish lad were bursting through the door, arms cradling significant amounts of alcohol. A restock for their night ahead.</p><p>"Ay! Just the man we want to see." Zayn smirked deviously as he set the various bottles and cans on the black marble countertop.</p><p>"We plan to bring out the old you. So, we got your favourite booze. We're stocked up on shots to get you to five drink Harry quicker." Niall piped up, imitating his roommates manoeuvres around the kitchen, causing Harry's face to twist with confusion.</p><p>"Five drink Harry? What the fuck is that?" Harry asked crudely, tipping the contents of his dustpan and brush into the bin. What was with his friends? Why were they so determined to get him drunk?</p><p>"Five drink Harry is the loose, confident and entertaining Harry." Zayn informed the curly haired lad with a chuckle, getting out a large pot to make some sort of concoction, like a witch brewing a deadly potion in a cauldron. "One drink Harry, he's pretty boring, a bit spacy and nerdy."</p><p>"Oi." Harry huffed.</p><p>"Two drink Harry is chatty Harry, he will talk to anyone and everyone until their ears bleed."</p><p>"Three drink Harry is loudmouth Harry. He's a little goby and in your face until he's challenged. Then he backs down. Not hit the confident stage yet, just cocky." Niall chimed in eagerly.</p><p>"Four drink Harry. Now he's brilliant. That's when your inner exotic dancer comes out, go-go dancer Styles. And then you have five drink Harry, the most confident of them all, the man, the myth, the legend." Zayn snickered slyly.</p><p>How many drinks did it take Harry to get drunk enough not to remember? Six drinks? Was eight drink Harry the type to get into bed with a complete stranger?</p><p>"Well five drinks is my limit." Harry grunted, turning on his heel and heading up to his room to get himself mentally prepared for this evening.</p><p>Harry's room was the biggest of all of the rooms in the apartment, being lucky enough to have won the foolish game of rock, paper, scissors between his two other flatmates. He made the most of it seeing as he spent most of his second year of university hidden away in it, turning it into a tranquil room, somewhere he could escape the harsh worlds outside his door.</p><p>Walking into the room, the first thing that could be noticed was the neutral and earthy tone it carried, calming greens against whites and creams. The sun often beamed through the large bay window that was at the opposite side of the room, shedding light on the vintage blue patterned rug in the middle of his floor. The bay window was definitely Harry's favourite spot in the entire flat, spending his evenings there, staring up at the stars.</p><p>Harry kept things simple in his room, filling it with succulents and other plants such as ferns and aloe veras, most of which sat above his bed on a shelf. The shelf itself was set on a white washed brick wall to the left of the room, a strip of fairy lights draped loosely from the corners of the wall.</p><p>It was the perfect setting above his wooden pallet bed frame, the fronds — leaves of the ferns — suspended over the end of the wooden shelf as if to be looking down at Harry, often waving if his window was open. It was sedative, much like a mobile in a baby's crib.</p><p>Across the room from the exceedingly low bed was his desk, which he only used for more book storage, the occasional school assignment and laptop. But it was rarely used, unlike the strangers desk that seemed worn from all the paints and charcoal that covered it.</p><p>Harry imagined the strangers spending countless nights working on masterpieces, charcoal smeared over his fingers and possibly his nose, having gotten an itch.</p><p>Living out the cliche life as an artist was a thing of dreams, right? Constantly covered in paint, a brush held between the teeth while searching for the correct tube of paint that's almost bare on the pallet. Sitting crossed legged on a tatty old white sheet in the middle of the floor, surrounded by canvases and bottles of colourful mixtures, a bouquet of brushes nestled comfortably in a pot of used water.</p><p>It left Harry wondering where the man's inspiration struck, how he interpreted it and used it to create his works of art. He pondered on the idea of himself being the man's inspiration, did he see the inner beauty or the story Harry had to tell beneath his denial and hard exterior. Though that was just a hackneyed way of thinking, letting his imagination run away from him for a moment.</p><p><em>Stop</em>.</p><p>Why couldn't Harry shake the thought of the man who seemed to ruin his life? A man he couldn't remember, yet filled his mind with the numerous possibilities of what kind life this stranger lived.</p><p>That's where he found himself later that night, sitting at his bay window, listening to the loud music blast through the old walls of the house. He could hear everyone having fun, he could hear their laughs and cheers, maybe the occasional squeaky bed in the next room. Another reason Harry was glad he had a lock on his door, not wanting his room to be used as a sex pad for passing guests.</p><p>Maybe the boys was right, maybe he should go down and have a few drinks. What harm could it do? No one would notice him, no one would care if he was down there or not. He nodded to himself after an internal debate and hauled himself to his feet to get changed into something more decent.</p><p>Harry tied his hair into a cute little bun, tucking the loose strands behind his ears. He swapped his baggy jumper for a long sleeved khaki green shirt and pulled open his door. It was a basic outfit, but who was he trying to impress? He took a deep breath and headed out, locking his door before he shuffled towards the bustling kitchen.</p><p>Once Harry was at the end of the hallway leading to the living area, he was instantly struct by the smell of sweat, alcohol and for some reason gasoline. He rolled his eyes and made his way over to the kitchen, grabbing a beer bottle for himself. He put the cap of the beer to the back of his teeth, pulling it slightly to crack off the metal top. He smiled as he took a long swig of the bittersweet alcohol, it'd been a while since he had anything as strong as the beer currently in his hand. He had a glass of wine here and there, but that was only when he was hiding away during some of the parties or at his mothers dinner parties.</p><p>Trying to get to the living room was a struggle, there were too many people dancing or standing around to get from one place to another easily. Harry had spilt most of his beer down himself and other people trying to manoeuvre himself through the tight space by the time he had reached the sofa. He dropped onto the cozy dual la-z-boy when he finally reached the living room, which he noticed was trashed already. There really was no point to him cleaning today.</p><p>It really didn't take Harry long to pick up his pace with his drinks from that moment on.</p><p>One drink Harry, he sat alone on the sofa wondering what book he was going to read once upstairs.</p><p>Two drinks down, Harry found himself chatting quietly to some random girl about astronomy facts, oblivious to the bored look that was plastered on the poor girls face. 'Chatty Harry' would normally talk without getting distracted, especially when it was something he was passionate about, though tonight was different.</p><p>His eyes kept catching a stranger in the distance, dancing and gracefully swaying his hips to the music. It was hypnotising, like watching the northern lights sashaying through the night sky. Harry just couldn't stop glancing over at him, hoping their eyes would meet, just like in the stories he was once told -- eyes meeting through a crowded room. They meet cute.</p><p>Though, the dancer disappeared as quickly as he had appeared. A shadow, simply passing in the wind.</p><p>After a few drinks, Harry decided he was intoxicated enough to start dancing. Was this four drink Harry? Maybe it was the sixth drink, Harry had honestly lost track.</p><p>Being a bad dancer sober just meant Harry was even worse when he was drunk, yet people seemed to love it and joined in with him, cheering him on as he got onto the table and danced for everyone to see. He grinned as a few others joined in with him, dancing just as awfully as him.</p><p>With a mix of his two left feet and drunken coordination skills, he found himself stumbling back, tripping over his heavy feet and falling off the edge of the round table, straight into someone's arms.</p><p>"Woah there party animal" The smooth voice chuckled and stood Harry on his feet but kept a firm hold of him. "I think you've partied hard enough" He hummed and looked at Harry, who was definitely worse for wear.</p><p>Harry looked the lad up and down and blushed. The boy was adorable, stood in his black tank top that was exceptionally see through, his inked skin seeping through. He wore extremely tight jeans that hugged his figure. Harry couldn't help but notice how curvy the boy was, he definitely had all the right curves in all the right places. It left Harry salivating at the sight.</p><p>He stared at the stranger in front of him, in awe of all the beautiful features on him. The ocean blue eyes, which looked like he had a whole galaxy lost in them. His lips, ones that looked so soft, so pink, so kissable. Harry shook his head quickly and took a step back out of the man's grasp.</p><p>"You okay?..." The stranger asked, concerned as he noticed Harry turn pale. He reached over and held Harry's arm reassuringly.</p><p>Harry looked at him blankly for a short moment, opening his dry mouth to say something but instead did something unexpected. Something that might have been worse than waking up with a stranger, if not, Harry was definitely going to beat himself up over it for a while. He hunched over suddenly and vomited all over the stranger, from his tank top to his dirty white vans.</p><p>Harry looked up at him, expecting to see the boy staring back at him with anger surging through him, ready to knock Harry's lights out. Yet he was met with a sympathetic look. The stranger simply held Harry up and led him through the crowded hallway, sending him a reassuring smile.</p><p>"Let's find you somewhere to rest that curly head of yours?" He hummed as they pushed their way through the noisy crowd.</p><p>"What's your name?" He hummed happily, still not drawing attention to his sick covered clothes. Since he didn't get an answer from Harry right away, he spoke softly again. "I mean, I'm more than happy to just call you Party Animal, or maybe the social butterfly. Does party pants wor--"</p><p>"Harry..." Harry hiccuped, cutting him off and carefully put most of his weight on the boy that was supporting him to a room.</p><p>"Well, Harry. Is one of these rooms yours, or are you here for the free drinks like me?" He asked with a light chuckle while Harry guided him to the first door, digging through his tight pocket before pulling out a key. Harry noticed the way the stranger glanced down as he watched him struggle to insert the key. Another sympathetic gaze being sent his way, pitiful almost.</p><p>Then it hit Harry. This was the dancer in the kitchen, the shadow he had seen passing by.</p><p>"Let me do that for you." The lad chuckled happily as he took the key from Harry and unlocked the door, breaking him out of his thoughts.</p><p>Harry stumbled into the room and fell straight onto his bed with a quiet 'oof', making the stranger laugh at his expense. It was one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard, a siren song. The laugh echoed around his room, making the corner of his lips curl. How could a laugh brighten an entire room, like the sun was beaming in the door of his dark room. This was a melody he wanted to hear repeatedly while he read, stargazed or even while he was simply laying in bed.</p><p>The man stood at the end of his bed and watched as he struggled to get his boots off, sprawled out awkwardly as he tugged on the black leather shoe. Harry propped himself up on his elbow, staring at the man who got on his knees and slowly pulled his shoes off for him with a smile.</p><p>There was that angelic laugh again, while he set the boots aside. Harry's heart fluttered.</p><p>"How about we get you cozy and...." The man began, stopping to look around the room. He grabbed Harry's paper waste bin, setting it beside the drunk lad. "Make sure you've got something to throw up in next time." He finished, pulling the quilt back and wrapped Harry in it, tucking him in tight. It was just like his mother used to do.</p><p>Harry whined when the man got up to leave, reaching his arms up and making grabby hands like a toddler asking to be picked up.</p><p>"S-Stay..." Harry choked out and sat up a little. He looked over at his chest of draws and pointed to it with his shaky hands. "Have one of my shirts and pants... I'll clean your clothes for you." He hiccuped and laid back down as the room started to spin.</p><p>Harry heard the stranger open the draws and look through them till he found some items that would work for him. If the room wasn't spinning, Harry may have tried to take a glance at the lad changing, but that would have been weird.</p><p>"S-Sorry I threw up on you..." Harry slurred and rubbed his face in embarrassment.</p><p>"It's okay, these things happen." He responded, taking a seat next to Harry and brushing the loose strand of hair out of his sweat covered forehead.</p><p>The action made Harry tense up, affection, a human touch he wasn't used to and the man had clearly picked up on his body language, instantly pulling his hand back.</p><p>"You have a charming little room, Harry. What was your inspiration?" The man asked, trying to distract them both from the encounter, causing Harry to roll his head to get a better look at him.</p><p>"Nothing. Emptiness is bliss. It's about the simplicity, having a space I can disappear to. It's a safe place. Books, stars and plants. Things that help me escape reality." Harry rambled a little, gazing around his dreary room. "That was weird. Sorry. I'm just not good at decorating." Harry corrected with a lie.</p><p>"Are you kidding? This place is a dream, so peaceful. You've definitely captured the simplicity." The man said and Harry was sure he was just saying it to be nice. "My room is full of chaos. But it's organised chaos." He added with a chuckle.</p><p>"What the hell is classed as organised chaos?" Harry questioned, sending him a inquisitive look.</p><p>"Like, it's a mess, but it's an organised mess. I know where everything is and to me it's all in the right place. But compared to this room, mine looks like a bomb filled with confetti hit." He chuckled, Harry catching the joyful spark in his eyes. "Tell me about these stars, Harry." He added.</p><p>Harry struggled out of his tightly wrapped cocoon and headed over to his bay window, beckoning the man over eagerly while attempting to open it.</p><p>"Woah. Let me do that!" The man exclaimed, springing to his feet and hurrying over to Harry.</p><p>After the window was open, Harry sat on the bench and looked out the window with an excitable grin, pointing up to the sky.</p><p>"So if you look just above that roof, those seven stars? That's Ursa Major or the big dipper. It's Latin name actually means greater she-bear... It refers to and contrasts with the nearby Ursa Minor, the lesser bear." Harry explained passionately, looking back at the man who was sitting beside him.</p><p>Harry was expecting to see the man looking out at the stars but he wasn't, his eyes were on him, gazing at him as if he had just seen a phenomenon. Was that awe Harry could see in those ocean blue eyes?</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Nothing. I just wasn't expecting an astrologer to come out of you.. Tell me more." The tattooed stranger insisted, tucking himself behind Harry on the window to look out the window over his shoulder. The action heated Harry's cheeks, feeling those butterflies in his stomach again as he continued to explain the constellations.</p><p>"Well firstly... It's astronomer, not astrologer." Harry chuckled softly, looking back at the stranger with a smirk. "I'm not about to use the stars to tell you your future."</p><p>"Alright, alright." The man rolled his eyes, nudging Harry's side playfully.</p><p>Before Harry knew it, the stranger had snaked his arm around his side, resting back against the wall so that they were almost laying together on the bench, Harry's back pressed against the man's toned chest. Maybe it was the alcohol surging through his body or another moment of poor judgement but Harry didn't fight the simple touch, for once panic didn't set in from not knowing how to handle the affection being offered.</p><p>They laid in the bay window for hours, both staring up at the sky and discussing the stars, enjoying each other's company.</p><p>That was when they saw it, the shooting star, darting across the sky as if an artist had smeared paint on a perfect canvas. Adding life to a still night.</p><p><em>Make a wish</em>.</p><p>Harry, of course, wished this moment would last for a while longer, a peaceful moment shared with kindred souls.</p><p>"Can a wish come true before you've seen the star?" The ocean eyed stranger asked, making Harry hum softly in response. What had he wished for? Did that mean something he wished for was happening right at this moment?</p><p>"Are you asking the astrologer or the astronomer?" Harry whispered playfully, raising his head to look up at the man with tired eyes. "Because I think one of them would say yes..."</p><p>They laid there most of the night, Ocean Eyes spent the rest of the evening talking to Harry as he watched him struggle to sleep, dainty fingers running through his loose curls. He told Harry about random things in his life, like what he studied at the university, what brought him to the party tonight and more. The velvety tones in his voice sending Harry to sleep like a lullaby.</p><p>Harry just hoped the man would be there when he woke up, but maybe some things were just too good to be true.</p><p>This was a moment he wanted to remember, the way it felt to be held, to be lulled to sleep by a beautiful man. This was what made life good.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 02</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks, I appreciate it! Let me know what you think of these next few chapters, feedback is always welcome! :)</p><p>Also you will notice I have changed some distant characters names, just a personal preference, such as Harry's father.</p><p>Enjoy!x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For once it was a peaceful night, filled with sweet dreams and untroubled thoughts. He wasn't worrying about what the consequences of his actions were going to be, what his friends would think if they found out he had spent another night with a stranger.</p><p>None of that had any importance to him, all that mattered was the warmth that radiated from the strangers body, making him melt against him much like ice cream in a warm ceramic bowl. The tingle that the man's delicate digits left on his skin, leaving him to desire more.</p><p>It was strange, how could something he would typically avoid feel so good.</p><p>For Harry, touch was usually an invasion, a form of unwanted intimacy that he would often avoid like it was the plague. But this was as though his body just surrendered to the man, leaving him defenceless.</p><p>Harry carefully peeled his eyes open the next morning, letting a loud groan pass his lips as he sat up in his low bed -- his hangover certainly apparent. He took a moment to try and recall how he had ended up in bed and dressed in sweatpants rather than the outfit he had fallen asleep in. It was like elves had been in his room and taken care of him.</p><p>He wondered if he had imagined it all. It all seemed too good to be true, he wouldn't have let someone hold him in such a way. Yet he couldn't have, right? He vividly remembered sitting at the bay window, spending the whole night talking about stars and listening to the velvety voice that sent him to sleep. He remembered the strangers' serene sapphire orbs, how they lit up when Harry asked him to stay and...</p><p>Well that was it -- fuck. He didn't even get a name.</p><p>It was a repeat of that night.</p><p>Harry instantly began searching for the stranger from the previous night, his empty heart clinging to a thread of hope that he was just in the bathroom, but was only disappointed to find that he was alone. Of course, why would he stick around.</p><p>Harry rolled out of the bed, his hands instantly reaching for his throbbing head. Why did he do this to himself again, was the high really worth the pain it left him feeling. In this case, yes. He had met what could only be described as an angel and he would do it all again if it meant it brought him back.</p><p>Once he was standing firmly on his feet, he began to make his way to the door, ready to yell at his roommates for blasting music boorishly in the kitchen this early in the morning -- even if it was closer to lunchtime than breakfast. He just needed the day to nurse his hangover. Yet he found himself tripping over something piled up on the floor. He cursed under his breath as he toppled over, landing on the wooden floor with a heavy thud. He grabbed the pile of what he soon discovered was someone else's clothes off the floor angrily.</p><p>"Fucking piece of shit!" Harry snapped, about to hurl the clothes away when his face curled in disgust, suddenly being hit by the smell of vomit. He stared at the black tank top for a moment before a few memories came back to him. He closed his eyes and groaned in embarrassment, wondering why on earth the stranger had stayed after that.</p><p>Though, this was proof that Harry hadn't been hallucinating the night before.</p><p>Angels were real.</p><p>After a moment of self-loathing, Harry picked himself up and tried to brush off the agonisingly unpleasant memory, there was nothing he could do about it now.</p><p>With the sick covered clothes in hand, he shuffled into the kitchen and shoved the items into the washing machine as quickly as he could. He took a swift glance around, assessing the damage that was caused from the events of the night before.</p><p>That's when his eyes caught a glimpse of Niall who was jumping around as he picked up beer bottles and red cups off the floor. Zayn himself was crouched at the living room wall, scrubbing paint off it aggressively. Harry rolled his eyes with a slight chuckle, he was glad they were cleaning up for once.</p><p>"You better hope that paint comes off. It'll come out of the security deposit otherwise." Harry warned as he poured himself a glass of water, smirking when Zayn shot him an unamused glare.</p><p>"Well, someone had a good time last night" Zayn chuckled now that he had noticed Harry in the room.</p><p>"How bad was I?..." Harry grumbled, rubbing his head and dropping down onto the sofa.</p><p>"Well. You were dancing on the table... Doing shots, grinding against strangers" Niall laughed as he tied the black bin bag up, strolling to place it by the door so that it was ready to take out with the rest of the rubbish. "You definitely didn't stick to your five drink limit."</p><p>Harry put his head in his hands , sighing in embarrassment. He could try and pass the blame to them, accuse them of not keeping an eye on him, but he wasn't their responsibility. He had to take accountability for his actions, he had no one to blame but himself.</p><p>"Who was I with last night?..." Harry questioned and looked at the boys, hoping they would be able to shed some light on who the stranger was. The two simply shrugged and continued cleaning up.</p><p>"I don't remember seeing you after you fell off that table. You just disappeared and we were laughing way too hard to focus on you after that." Niall admitted, a childish grin plastered over his face.</p><p>That's when Harry remembered falling into someone's arms, who he gathered the shirt belonged to. But he couldn't put a name to the boy, nor a face really. He sighed and tried to remember, even the smallest detail. The stranger had been so kind to him and he can't ever remember who he was. His mission was to find the mystery boy, so they could trade back clothes and so Harry could apologise for his behaviour. Just not today.</p><p>He thought for a moment before getting up and walking to the kitchen, deciding a nutritious lunch -- an order from McDonald's -- might help with their hangovers. When didn't greasy food help nurse a hangover?</p><p>Harry spent most of his afternoon helping the boys clean up, the place reeked of alcohol and weed. He rolled his eyes as he sprayed everything down with antibacterial spray, they were definitely going to have to air the apartment out. He was also still looking for an explanation as to why the smell of gasoline hung heavy in the air last night but nothing seemed to stand out right now, though the smell was still about.</p><p>He went back to the washing machine and pulled out the strangers top, letting his fingers linger over the thin material. Tattoos. The stranger had tattoos that bled through the fabric. A number seemed to resonate with him as he daydreamed about the mystery man.</p><p>"A tank? I've never, in the three years that I have known you, seen you in a tank top. Have you got a secret draw full of those things? A dress hidden away?" Zayn teased, nudging Harry's side and drawing him out of his thoughts.</p><p>A simple roll of his eyes and a small tut was all Harry gave Zayn in response, not wanting to bite the bait. He quickly turned and walked back to his room with the strangers clothing in hand. Harry in a tank top, that would have been a sight to see, especially in this size that this one was. The stranger was very petite, pocket-sized almost. The thought made Harry chuckle, imagining the stranger tucked away in his pocket to carry around for comfort everyday.</p><p>Once Harry had set the wet clothes over his radiator, he stood in the middle of his floor and scanned every inch of the room that his eyes could see, looking for anything the boy might have left, his number, even his phone. The man had to have left something other than the dirty clothes on his floor. They had a moment, surely he hadn't left without leaving him something to find. He stumbled around for a few minutes, moving books off his desk and shuffling his pillows around on the bay window, until he finally found a little bit of paper with pretty little handwriting on it placed under one of the pillows. Harry smiled to himself constantly as he read the note.</p><p>'Morning Harry, hope your hangover isn't too bad! Stay hydrated and sleep the day away! Anyway, thanks for letting me borrow your clothes, I had to take you up on the offer of washing my clothes for me. I mean you did completely cover me last night. I appreciate it (; Hopefully when your friends have another party we could swap back? Highlight of my night was watching you trying to take off those boots of yours (: See you around Party Animal.'</p><p>The note wasn't signed, just a simple doodle of a heart, a flower and a butterfly.</p><p>A butterfly.</p><p>It couldn't be, could it?</p><p>Harry searched his mind for the butterfly, was it the same as the ones he had seen in the lilac bedroom? He couldn't see the signed art work in his head clear enough to make a confident decision that the two men were actually the same man. His mind went blank. He certainly didn't recognise the handwriting and the contents of the note didn't help him remember at all. He groaned as he put the note back down on the bay window.</p><p>He paced back and forth in his room, this boy was really messing with his head and no matter what he did couldn't stop thinking about him, just like his 'one night stand'. But then again, they could be the same person...</p><p>What was stressing him out was he couldn't remember who the boy was, neither of them. He needed to find out, he wasn't going to rest till he found this boy. The boy who played with his feeling, the one Harry only the colour of his eyes and the tattoos that covered his chest -- even if there were tattoos on show in that tank top, he had only picked up on the chest.</p><p>Harry laid down on the bed slowly, he had to find this boy before he lost his mind over him. He sighed running his fingers through his hair. Was this stranger his artists drowning in lilac or his stargazing chum, maybe they were one of the same.</p><p>A stargazing artist, a beautiful concept.</p><p>After a while of resting on the bed, trying to reminisce on his night of stargazing, wondering why his mind had drawn a blank on any of the information the lad had given, Harry got to his feet and staggered out of his room. He had to get out of the flat and occupy his mind, he didn't want to dwell on the lad for any longer today.</p><p>"If anyone comes to drop off some clothes, call me?" Harry requested as he picked up his coat, though he doubted that the man would randomly turn up for it.</p><p>"I'm gonna go to mums quick, want me to stop at the shops on the way back?" He asked as he shoved on some boots, checking over his shoulder to look at his roommates who had now crashed on the sofa.</p><p>"Painkillers." Niall replied in a gruff tone.</p><p>Harry chuckled, nodding and hurrying out the door. He hopped into his vintage cream Volkswagen Beetle -- a gift from his so called father -- and started up the engine, frowning at the song that suddenly came blaring through the stereo system. 'Drunk' by Ed Sheeran, typical. For some reason it made Harry's heart twist a little, like the universe was rubbing it in his face. He shook his head and put on his cd before pulling off the drive and driving to his mothers house.</p><p>The drive wasn't too long, Harry had never wanted to be too far from his mother after everything that had happened in the past. He saw her as a vulnerable woman and being the man of the house, after his old man bailed out, he had to take care of her.</p><p>Once he was there, he let himself in and frowned at the state of the house.</p><p>"Mum? Are you up?" Harry called out as he started to tidy the house a bit, moving empty pill bottles and piles of food wrappers that littered the living room floor.</p><p>"Upstairs, love. Stick the kettle on? I'll be down shortly." Anne called down, making a racket in her room.</p><p>"Stay there, I'll come help you." Harry sighed in response.</p><p>Anne had been ill for a very long time now, it was the reason Harry had moved to the area with the boys, so that he could take care of her. He would have moved in to become her full time carer but couldn't sit and watch his own mother deteriorate in front of him. Anne was okay with Harry's decision, he had always promised he'd come over everyday. Although she was on the mend now and ten times better than she once was, Harry still looked after her like she was still at her worst.</p><p>Harry sighed as heard Anne try to get up, upstairs. He put down the items he had been holding and rushed to her side.</p><p>"What have I told you about trying to get up in the mornings with out me or Robin." Harry scolded as he picked his mother up and carried her downstairs. Robin had been apart of the family for a few years now, he worked hard during the day to help pay for Anne's treatment, his world revolved around his wife and Harry could see that. So while Robin worked, Harry came over and helped his mother out. In Harry's eyes, Robin had been a better father in the few years he had known him than Damien had ever been.</p><p>"I'm capable of moving around the house, Harry. You need to stop babying me."</p><p>"This place is a state, mum. Why hasn't Rob been cleaning?" Harry questioned, ignoring her words as he sat her down on the sofa. He looked around in shock, the place looked like it had been burgled. He looked down at his shy mother, who was trying to avoid eye contact.</p><p>"Mum? Where's Rob?" He asked again, kneeling in front of Anne.</p><p>"I don't know..." Anne finally admitted and played with Harry's hands. She looked rather distraught at the matter and it broke Harry's heart. Despite the fact that he hated seeing his mother in such a way he still tensed up as he was engulfed in a loving hug by his mother, an action she hadn't done in years</p><p>Robin better have not left her.</p><p>"When did you last see him. I thought he had the week off... That's why I haven't come to see you." Harry informed and brushed his mothers hair out of her face.</p><p>"A few days ago." She breathed and buried her faded face into her son's shoulder. Harry wanted to pull away, the touch feeling foreign to him as he tried to wrap his arms around her. He opted for a small pat on her back, struggling to know how to comfort her.</p><p>"Mum..." Harry found himself sighing. "Why didn't you tell me? Do you know when he's coming back" He continued and looked down, hoping for a positive answer.</p><p>"I don't know. I can't get hold of him... He went to see your father and never came home." she whispered solemnly. Harry shook his head, frowning deeply as he felt his mother cry into his shoulder. It really broke his heart to see her in this state, his mother deserved everything good in the world but it never worked out that way. She was a true angel, she tried her best to keep Harry and Gemma together through the break down of her marriage and Harry was very grateful for everything she was able to do. Yet sometimes he felt like she didn't fight hard enough for him, like she wanted Gemma more than him and that was why he got stuck with his father in the end.</p><p>After the divorce, Harry and his sister -- Gemma -- were constantly bounced between their parents' new homes, spending a few weeks at each place at a time. Though, it was obvious they preferred their mothers home. Even if Anne had stopped tucking Harry in and giving him a cuddle the moment he walked through the door, her home was still filled with love.</p><p>Their fathers house on the other hand, Harry often described it as a dungeon, it was a dim and extremely depressing home -- certainly not filled with love.</p><p>Anne would have dinner on the table ready when they got home from school, a cup of tea and biscuits at the ready if one of them had had a bad day. Not with Damien, he was hardly home when he had Harry and Gemma staying, leaving them to practically fend for themselves. Damien was out drinking most nights and would come home so drunk that he didn't remember the awful things he used to do. Harry did though, things he would never forget.</p><p>Eventually the bouncing stopped, the arguments between his parents about whose house they were going to stay came to a holt, all because they had come to the agreement that Harry would stay at the dungeon and Gemma got to go with their saint of a mother. Harry had always hated that he had never gotten a say in the matter, like his opinion didn't matter.</p><p>"Have you spoken to Gem?" He asked as he pulled away, no longer being able to force himself to endure the embrace. His frown grew deep when she shook her head.</p><p>"Right, I'll call Gem. You can stay at my place, at least until Gem can get you a room ready at hers. I'll go see dad and see if he knows where Robin's fucked off too." He instructed and started packing his mothers bags, ignoring her pleas not to.</p><p>"Language, Harry." Anne scolded and shook her head.</p><p>"Sorry. I'm just annoyed, it's not like Rob to just disappear."</p><p>Once most of her bags were packed Harry helped Anne to her feet and led her to the car. He buckled her in and pulled his phone out to call Gemma, hoping that she would be able to get a room ready for their mother before the end of the night. He continued to pack a few things while he spoke to Gemma, trying to see if she also had any information on Robin's whereabouts.</p><p>After getting everything in the boot, Harry climbed into the car and started the ignition. He pulled off the drive and started to drive back to his house. Gemma was going to meet them back at the flat once she had the room ready, agreeing to take their sickly mother in as soon as possible. He made small talk to his mother as they drove, trying to distract himself from the only person he wanted to talk to right now. His astrology acquaintance.</p><p>Harry pulled up on the drive and got the boys to help him with his mothers bags, they could be good boys when needed. He helped Anne out of the car and into the house, getting her settled on the sofa before heading to the kitchen to put on the kettle for everyone. Lunch would be great right about now so he got out some pans to make some for everyone.</p><p>"Found your sweatpants and Space Jam shirt out in the hallway while we were taking the bins out..." Zayn casually mentioned as he accompanied Harry with lunch.</p><p>"What? Did you see who left it? Why didn't you call me like I asked?" Harry asked eagerly and swung his head round to look at the tanned boy.</p><p>"No. We honestly thought you'd left them out there.." Zayn admitted, wiggling his eyebrows as if he was hinting something, sending Harry a curious gaze. "I won't ju--"</p><p>"I'm not some whore, Zayn. I don't fucking sleep around." Harry snapped, hating the image he had given himself after that fateful night. "Someone borrowed them af-- Why am I even explaining myself to you." He hissed and slammed the bag of pasta down in his hand, storming out of the kitchen.</p><p>Why did the stranger have to leave it out in the hallway, without letting anyone know it was there. It seemed odd, secretive almost. The man had an opportunity to collect his own things, but as Harry got to his room, he realised his clothes were still on the radiator. It gave them a reason to meet again and that seemed to be the strangers plan. It was the only explanation, right?</p><p>Harry grabbed the clothes on his radiator, folding them and putting them on an empty space on his desk, ready for when the man finally showed his face.</p><p>Damien. Damien was his next job of the day.</p><p>"I'm going to dad's. Gem's gonna be here soon, I'll be back later." Harry grunted as he emerged from his room, walking out the house without giving any of them a chance to protest.</p><p>Harry knew going to Damien's was going to bring up past trauma, but it had to be done, he had to start somewhere if he was going to find Robin. The man was a wolf in sheep's clothing, but Harry would do anything for his mother even if it meant facing his demons.</p><p>Fifteen minutes later, Harry found himself staring up at his childhood home, wondering how he had ever survived living in the hell hole back then. The house held so many unpleasant memories, feelings of pure hatred and resentment.</p><p>The house was caving in on itself, old concrete walls that were crumbling away like the edge of a chalky cliff and an overgrown lawn that had plants creeping up the walls. Much like Harry, the house hadn't been shown much affection over the years. These walls held stories that Harry knew he would never tell, stories that undoubtedly made him the man he was today. Stories that weren't made for bedtime tales. It was like something out of a horror film, the dirty cabin serial killers took their victims too.</p><p>Why was life this way? Where did everything change? They were once a close-knit family unit, his father would have never laid a finger on his back then, then the drinking started, the arguing and then the violence. Each having a knock on effect. Back then he didn't understand why his perfect parents were divorcing but soon saw the light when he was living alone with his abusive father.</p><p>Harry stumbled to the door, suddenly feeling as if it was towering over him, it was a daunting task just to knock. The house seemed to cast a shadow over him, draining all the courage he had in his body.</p><p>No, he had to be strong, stand his ground, this man no longer had any power over him, he couldn't hurt Harry anymore.</p><p>"Oi! Open up." Harry bellowed as his fist slammed against the door a few times, wanting to get it over and done with as soon as possible. The quicker he got the information on Robin, the quicker he could go back to his flat.</p><p>The door swung open with force, causing Harry to flinch and quickly step back. His eyes slowly travelled from the floor and up the person's body, drawing his eyebrows together as he began to realise it wasn't his father towering over him.</p><p>"What the fuck are you doing here?" Harry barked, placing two firm hands on their chest and shoving them back roughly.</p><p>"Harry, just hear me out!"</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 03</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry felt extremely numb, his eyes wide as his mind was flooded with his childhood memories and emotions. Fear, fondness, anger, all drowning him at once; all triggered by the ghost from his past that stood in front of the gates of hell.</p><p>Correction, hell was perhaps less frightening than this. The thought of spending eternity in a blazing inferno was subdued in comparison to the idea of Harry having to relive his past in this very moment.</p><p>Liam. Little Liam Payne, the big teddy bear that Harry had once confided in, a boy Harry once claimed was his best friend. That was before Damien had caused their separation. Watching Liam walk away was one of the hardest things he went through, never really forgiving himself for causing that pain.</p><p>It was bizarre how Harry could still recognise the man after all these years, though it certainly wasn't the charming young lad he had grown up with — untouched; yet to be scarred by the reality of what life held for them. It was no longer the babyfaced, young lad with a sweet nature and a terrible long fringe that he swept to the side stood in front of him; replaced by a man with a hard exterior, littered with tattoos and a scruffy beard that disguised his gaunt features. His buzz cut seemed to draw his face in more, making him look sickly, damaged even as though he hadn't taken much care of himself over the years. But then again, who did these days?</p><p>He could question the man's drastic change, what pushed him to leave behind the every last part of his old self, but he feared he already knew the answer. It was all fuelled by the same experience, the motivation they both found from a shared trauma, the desire to cut any ties that linked them back to that day. Hair, skin, clothes, all of it had changed.</p><p>"I can explain, Harry. Please." The voice bellowed, threads of distraught weaved through his tone, drawing Harry out of his thoughts.</p><p>"Go on then, what's your excuse? Because the last time you were here you told me you would rather—" Harry scoffed, cutting himself off because he couldn't actually remember what Liam had told him that day, it was a blurred memory that was buried deep in the dark place of his mind. He really hadn't been given the chance to dust off that box yet.</p><p>"Would you believe me if I said I was looking for you?" Liam asked in the softest voice, a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he stepped towards Harry.</p><p>"No." Harry started, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to cover his uncertainty and seem more confident in speaking to the lad. "Considering you told me years ago you never wanted to see me again... Which, I don't exactly blame you. But—"</p><p>"Well I've had years to consider the past, Harry." Liam interrupted before Harry could continue to ramble on. "I've had time to see that it wasn't your fault. In the heat of the moment I blamed you.. I blamed you for something that wasn't your fault at all, but at the time I couldn't see that. I resented you for so long, too blinded by trauma to realise you weren't the cause of it all." Liam babbled, an explanation Harry didn't necessarily need, nor did he want.</p><p>It was his fault at the end of the day, he had put his friend in that position. </p><p>"I mean — That doesn't really tell me why you are in Damiens house." Harry said slowly, as if he was still contemplating the words as he spoke them. It really didn't leave much reason for Liam to actually be opening the door as it were his own home. Trying to find him surely wouldn't have led him into the dragon's lair, though the demon inside could be very persuasive.</p><p>"Well, I didn't know if you still lived here and I thought this was the first place I should go." Liam explained, the reluctancy in his voice weighing heavy as he spoke. "I asked if he knew where I could find you, but he told me you guys hadn't spoken in a long time. We got talking and he apologised, explained everything to me, why he was so angry all those years ago, why he —"</p><p>"I've heard all this bullshit from him, Liam. I just want to know why you are in his house." Harry mumbled, not wanting to hear a repeat of the poison Liam had been fed.</p><p>Harry's father was a master manipulator. He could commit a murder and some how convince everyone around him that it was the victims fault, brand himself as a hero in someway. Anything that ever came out of his mouth would only ever benefit himself, it didn't matter to him if he threw someone under the bus in the process. It was often lie after lie.</p><p>With a snap of his fingers he could get his son to do anything he wanted, maybe that was just due to the fact that Harry was petrified by the old man, knowing exactly what he was capable of if he didn't get what he wanted.</p><p>Confusion washed over Liam's face, his eyebrows pulled together in thought.</p><p>Manipulation at its finest.</p><p>It was clear that the poor lad didn't even understand how he had ended up inside.</p><p>"You know what, I don't care. Where is he?" Harry huffed, teetering to the side to look past Liam into the dark hallway and spotting his father lingering in the shadows.</p><p>"Where's Robin?" Harry demanded, not in the mood for playing any mind games and Damien needed to know that. He had to stay confident, keep his shoulders held high and his head even higher. It had to be far enough off the ground for Damien not to get into it.</p><p>"He came looking for answers, so I gave them to him." Damien hissed, like a serpent. "He couldn't run away quick enough when I told him all the things you and your foul mother have done."</p><p>And there was the venom.</p><p>It was hard not to spit it back for bringing his mother into it right away; it was just the bait he wanted Harry to take. He wanted to get under his skin, to get a reaction out of him without having to even lift a finger.</p><p>"So what direction did you send him in." Harry breathed calmly, knowing he had to have given a hint of where to go next, where he could lie low until he had the opportunity to collect his things from the house.</p><p>A shrug.</p><p>That was all Harry got from his so called father before he found the door being slammed in his face with Liam now stood beside him.</p><p>Harry let out a frustrated grunt as he turned on his heel and walked away from the house, knowing there was absolutely no point trying to press for answers. Now he had to go on a man hunt for his stepdad with barely any information on his whereabouts.</p><p>"I can help." Liam hesitated, just trying to be helpful in some sort of ways, stumbling along after Harry in a hurry so he wasn't left behind.</p><p>"How are you intending on helping, Liam?" Harry grumbled, his feet freezing as he got to the end of the pathway, looking at his old friend.</p><p>"He mentioned that he went for a drink with your stepdad, to thank him for looking after you. Which I now see was a lie. But I think I know where they went." Liam admitted quietly, looking over his shoulder. "If they even went there... It's worth a shot, right?"</p><p>He had information that was helpful; Harry had nothing so he had to use his help, he really didn't have a choice in saying no.</p><p>"Lead the way." Harry said, swinging his arm out to the side of him to direct Liam ahead of him.</p><p>This better be worth it. He really didn't want to waste his time searching for his stepdad if their search stopped at the pub with a dead end.</p><p>Harry prayed that Robin had seen the light; knew better to trust the wolf in sheep's clothing. There was nothing nice about Damien, his stepdad had to have seen that, seen through the act Damien put on for show. He was smart enough not to get himself involved after all the years he had been with Anne, he couldn't have slipped up after all this time.</p><p>"So what have you been up to?"</p><p>Small talk?</p><p>From his ex best friend. It just felt weird, talking about things that should have been common knowledge between them both.</p><p>"Uni." Harry informed him simply, making a fist and using the back of his index finger to brush the bottom of his nose to relieve an itch. "Studying film, cinematic and all that shit. Took up the first thing I got offered, Couldn't hang about at Damien's any longer. What about you?"</p><p>"I was studying law in Brighton for a while, was really just there for the atmosphere and the people. Dropped out after the first year, wasn't as smart as I thought I was." Liam joked, walking down the narrow path to the pub he had heard Damien mention. "I honestly expected you to say Astronomy or something along those lines. You were always so obsessed with the sky and what was out there. Shouldn't you be in astronaut bootcamp right now?"</p><p>"Maybe next year. I can be the space station's photographer, one day." Harry laughed, remembering back to when they would sneak out of the house at their sleepovers to go to a field; lay on the grass staring up at the sky.</p><p>Harry was so passionate about space, obsessed with the stars, the moon, the planets. It was a distraction, a blanket of stars covering him, each with a story to tell and as always, Harry loved a good story.</p><p>Take Puppis for example, the constellation represents the stern of Argo, a ship that carried Jason and the Argonauts across the Black Sea in search of the Golden Fleece in Kolchis — an inspiration for one of his tattoos.</p><p>Yes, he had tattoos inspired by constellations; he'd never admit it.</p><p>Although the constellation of the Argo was now dismembered, it was still one of his favourites. His mind was now full of stars, as though he was standing in a clear sphere, being able to see constellations from the Northern and Southern Hemisphere. </p><p>Puppis straight in front of him; Pyxis to the left. To the right of Puppis is Columbia and just below that is Equuleus Pictoris, which translates to painter's easel.</p><p>That was all it took. Thinking about his passion somehow led right back to the butterfly man, perhaps the stranger was his new fascination. Everything brought him right back to man, who had now decided to call Pictor, it was a name to a face even if it wasn't his real one.</p><p>"So you and your dad really haven't spoken in years?" Liam asked to break the silence that had fallen between them, causing Harry's body to tense up, a topic Harry hated talking about. He was certainly picking at a festering wound that was better left untouched.</p><p>"I haven't spoken to him since he lost his temper with us. He — That was the last straw for me. I moved out as soon as I could after that, sofa surfed for about a year before I got accepted into Uni and moved in with some friends." Harry began as the two of them approached the pub. "He doesn't deserve any of my time, not when he hurt us the way he did. Supposed to be—" He added, cutting himself.</p><p>This definitely wasn't the time to bring up their trauma.</p><p>Harry made his way into the building without another word, pulling out his phone to get a photo of Rob to show people.</p><p>The first people he asked was a group of drunk men that Harry could only assume were regulars from the way they held themselves and spoke to each other, but got an unhelpful response from them all. The next to be asked was the barmaid, who seemed a little unsure, asking to see the photo a few times.</p><p>"Have you seen this man, then?" Harry huffed, quickly finding a photo of Damien and showing the woman. That sparked a different reaction — dread.</p><p>"Yeah." She stated, gently using a cloth to wipe off the sticky bar that stood between herself and the two men. "He was here with another fella, could have been the guy you were looking for. We had to call the police. Both had too much to drink and a fight broke out."</p><p>Great. This was all he needed.</p><p>"Do you know what happened after they left?" Harry pleaded, all he wanted to do was find his stepdad and not have to spend the entire evening searching for him.</p><p>"Well the fella you're looking for went with the police. He was in a pretty messed up way when they left. Maybe try the nearest police station?" She mentioned, giving him a sympathetic gaze. "I hope you find him!" She called after them as Harry stormed out.</p><p>Another wild goose chase but at least it was a lead.</p><p>The police station was the next stop and it was even more difficult to get information out of them than it was the drunken regulars at the pub. 'We're not at liberty to say' was the response he seemed to get from the officers at the front desk.</p><p>"Oh come on! I just want to know if he is in your custody or not. He's my stepdad for christ sake, just want to know he's okay." Harry ranted, getting fed up with no one giving him straightforward answers. "I just need a yes or no. Then I can go look elsewhere if he's not here."</p><p>"What's his name?" One officer finally asked, looking up from his computer.</p><p>"Robin Turner." Harry stated, stepping closer to the gentleman speaking to him.</p><p>A few taps on the keyboard and a simply shake of the head.</p><p>"Not in custody. Sorry, kid." The officer stated before getting to his feet and heading through the door.</p><p>Why was everyone he spoke to so incompetent, barely giving him an guidance in how to find Robin.</p><p>"We could try the hospital? The woman back at the bar said he was in a pretty bad way." Liam suggested while they walked out of the electric doors.</p><p>What other option did he have? The hospital was the last resort, Harry couldn't start to think where Robin might be after that.</p><p>The walk to the hospital was long, Harry wished he had brought his car as he brushed his damp curls from his sweaty forehead. His was dreading the walk back to Damiens to collect his car. He just hoped he would get back to the car with good news for his mother.</p><p>Approaching the counter, Harry's was riddled with anguish, just wanting to find his stepdad safe and in good hands.</p><p>"Excuse me, I'm looking for my dad. He's been missing for a few days and we're worried sick. His name is Robin Turner, do you know if he's here." Harry sniffled, playing on his emotions in the hopes that it would make the older woman behind the desk take pity on him. He learnt manipulation for the best teacher, after all.</p><p>"Bare with me one second, darling. Let me have a look for you." She smiled, instantly trying to reassure the snivelling boy that stood in front of her. A few taps on her keyboard and she looked up. "So I think I found him... My colleague is going to walk with you. If it's not him, come straight back to me and we'll see what we can do for you. So what you're going to want to do is follow this corridor down to the green wing, he's in room 305." She informed Harry, looking down the long corridor next to them with Harry.</p><p>"Thank you so much." Harry replied quickly, hurrying down the large hallway.</p><p>This had to be in, he had to be there and he had to be okay. things had to start looking up for him, life had to balance out at some point.</p><p>Harry could hear the patter of Liam's feet behind him, trying to keep up with his pace. It was actually a blessing that Liam was here with him, if this was really Robin then Harry owed finding him all to his ex friend. He would never have known about the pub, nor the bar fight and he definitely wouldn't have thought about coming to look in the hospital.</p><p>So there he stood, staring through the glass on the door at the man Harry didn't fully recognise. It was Robin for sure, but the sight of his beaten and swollen face haunted Harry. Vivid flashbacks replacing the man in the bed with himself, feeling as though he was having an outer body experience, staring at his freshly seventeen year old self.</p><p>His heart started to pound in his tightening chest, so much so that he could hear the blood pulsing through his ears. He turned white, his hands became clammy and his fingertips began tingling -- a burning sensation almost-- which spread like a wild fire up through his arms. The air seemed to thin, making it harder to catch his breath, the feeling similar to having someone's hands around his throat.</p><p>Liam placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder and Harry snapped, smacking Liam's hand away and glaring at him.</p><p>"Don't fucking touch me."</p><p>With that Harry was storming out of the door, needing to get out of the hospital. Robin was safe and in good hands, he could send Gemma to collect him tomorrow. In the moment, Harry could only think about getting as far away as possible from his trigger.</p><p>Harry walked for as long as his legs could take him, not exactly knowing where he was going but it just didn't feel far enough yet. Harry could hear the familiar patter from Liam's feet,  trailing after him. He could also hear his name being called but it felt as though someone's hands cupped over his ears, muffling any voices surrounding him.</p><p>"Fucking hell, Harry. Just stop!" Liam grunted as he finally got ahead of Harry, standing in front of him to stop him in his tracks. Liam put a hand on his own chest to catch his breath before reaching into his back pocket. "I know what will help you calm down, if you'll just let me help." He panted, pulling out a finely rolled joint.</p><p>Of course the lads solution involved drugs, did that explain his gaunt and scruffy features? Had Liam dropped out of uni and fallen at the mercy of drugs? Surely this wasn't his solution to everything life, though it would explain why he had a joint rolled and ready, offering it to Harry like an old lady would a piece of hard candy.</p><p>Against all of his morals, Harry found himself lying beside Liam in a field not even an hour later, high as a kite, soaring in fact. Just like a kite, he felt like all of his limbs had a piece of rope with someone at the other the ropes, pulling him down into the ground. It may have sounded delusional but Harry felt like the grass was wrapping around him, cradling him under the night sky much like a mother does with her newborn.</p><p>''I'm sorry, you know that right?" Harry finally hiccuped, rolling his head to the side to see his giddy friend.</p><p>"Sorry about what exactly?"</p><p>"About what happened, I should never have put you in that position."</p><p>"I told you, I don't blame you for it, Styles. Your old mans to blame." Liam corrected Harry, sitting up to look down at him. "I've missed you..."</p><p>Harry closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "I thought you'd never want to talk to me again, Li. I caused you so much pain. I asked you over that night, knowing full well that he had been drinking. I was the one who suggested the whole experimenting thing and I'm the idiot who forgot to block the door. I was the reason he put us —" Harry rambled on, opening his eyes to share an apologetic look at Liam but he was gone.</p><p>Nowhere in sight.</p><p>Had he just imagined it all again? Spent a whole day getting high and this was the result, ending up in a field alone. It didn't make much sense to Harry how his friend could have taken off that quickly and without a sound, how he had not noticed.</p><p>"Li?" Harry squeaked out timidly, scrambling to his feet. He could hear his heart pounding in ears again, his stomach twisting a little as he came to a realisation.</p><p>Did he remember how he had gotten to the field?</p><p>Nope.</p><p>Harry began to aimlessly wonder from the field into the street that was lit by the dull glow of street lamps overhead. On an average day, Harry was brilliant with his directions, knowing the town he had grown up in like the back of his hand. Being high was a different story. He couldn't distinguish anything in his state. He was more likely to find a bench to sleep on before he found a street he knew.</p><p>Laughter filled the air in the distance, causing a rising sense of paranoia in Harry; there was that agonising pain in his chest again.</p><p>It was pathetic but the marijuana was feeding his anxiety, giving him a ridiculous belief that he was being followed.</p><p>Why did Liam have to leave him there like that.</p><p>Harry turned a sharp corner and gazed up at the sky as he trudged down the pathway. The stars always managed to calm him down, why would today be any different.</p><p>"Argo? Use that compass of yours and take me somewhere safe?" Harry begged, his words slurring slightly at the end. Argo and it's compass got Jason and the Argonauts to Kolchis, why couldn't it lead him to his treasure?</p><p>"Equuleus Pictoris is always close by to you, why can't mine be?" He questioned, shaking his head roughly. "Just shine a light on him? Let the moon guide him?"</p><p>Was he really alone? Harry pondered on the idea that Pictor was somewhere out there, staring up at the same sky wondering where the astrologer was on a night like this. He was out there somewhere, probably not even having a second thought as to what Harry was up to. He was probably in his room, with his palette and brush, painting his own path for the Argo.</p><p>Within a second he was ripped from his thoughts and was thrown to the floor by another figure that barely budged on impact. Harry must have been the only one caught off guard as he went down like a sack of spuds.</p><p>How much of his lonesome conversation had he heard? He must have looked and sounded insane, a patient that had just escaped a mental institution.</p><p>The tumble Harry had taken provoked a hearty laugh from the stranger who shot a hand out to haul Harry to his unsteady feet.</p><p>"Oi, watch where you're going, Star Boy" The stranger snickered, eyes on Harry as he laid on the floor, cautiously taking the man's hand.</p><p>The moon shone down from behind him, illuminating the man's figure and not much more. It was as if he had a halo around his head, a guardian angel sent to get him home? Had the Argo — or Jason, seeing as he was captain — listened to him?</p><p>"Thought astrologers were supposed to be good at navigating and telling the future." The voice teased and just like that, Harry was putty in the man's hands, his heart all a flutter as he recognised the voice.</p><p>Harry had to have been mistaken or hallucinating again?</p><p>It couldn't be Pictor, could it?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. 04</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Astronomer." Harry corrected, staring up at the blue eyed boy with an outreached hand and then suddenly there was that bewitching laugh again. The sound was so pure and free from apprehension, a childlike laugh untouched by adult life.</p><p>
  <em>Really? You have a gorgeous man standing over you and all you can do is correct him?</em>
</p><p>"Right, sorry." Pictor snickered, wrapping his slender digits around Harry's wrist and lugged him to his feet. Harry's fingers lingered on the man's delicate wrists for a moment, peering over the inked skin beneath them.</p><p>A rope, which ends never meet. What was the story behind that? All tattoos had stories after all, just like the stars.</p><p>Harry let his eyes study over the man's skin, not caring that he was probably staring for a bit too long. Speech marks, a few birds, a globe, and a few other small various tattoos. The tattoo that really caught Harry's eye was an arrow that almost stretched across his forearm, its head pointing towards the end of his wrist as if drawn and ready to be released.</p><p>Could it have been Eros' arrow? Or Cupid as he was known by the Romans. There were tales of Eros and the two types of arrows he carried, one that was a sharp golden point — much like Pictor's — and another that had a blunt tip of lead. It was said that if you had been wounded by one of Cupid's golden arrow, you were filled with uncontrollable desire.</p><p>Harry was undoubtedly infatuated by the man standing over him, having been shot with his own golden arrow.</p><p>Or perhaps it was Sagitta, its Latin name meaning Arrow, of course — everything always went back to constellations . It had a simple story, it simply represented Hercules arrow in Greek mythology but the story of Hercules was interesting in itself.</p><p>Everything had a story.</p><p>"Harry..." Pictor's voice echoed around in Harry's head before he realised he had been holding onto the mans wrist for longer than he probably should have been, gazing up from his wrist to his ocean eyes.</p><p>"Sorry." Harry gushed, snatching his hand back and brushing his sweaty palms on his jeans.</p><p>The two stood silent for a brief minute, basking in the tranquillity of their moment as if they were the only two that existed in this small town. Though the moment didn't last long, it shared a lifetime of unspoken compassion.</p><p>"I asked if you were okay, you look a little shaken up." Pictor questioned after clearing his own throat, reaching his hand out once again to brush Harry's hair out of his face. Harry flinched as the hand came towards him, immediately taking a step back and looking at the man with cautious eyes.</p><p>Pictor was quick to retract his hand and shot Harry an apologetic look, watching him as he pulled his hair back onto a fresh bun.</p><p>"I'm fine. Just heading home." Harry muttered, brushing himself off a little as he could feel the gravel that was stuck to his backside.</p><p>"Heading home? Harry, you're nowhere near your place? Why are you so far out in town?" Pictor quickly asked, looking past Harry as if he was assessing the area for danger. How could a stranger be so protective over someone he didn't know in the slightest, apart from an evening of star gazing.</p><p>"I'm nineteen, not nine. I can handle a walk home."</p><p>Harry wasn't entirely sure why he had chosen to reply with such a snarky comment, but before he could think twice about it, he was walking away cockily.</p><p>"Wrong way." The voice heckled from behind him and Harry could already tell he had a shit eating grin plastered on his face, just from the smugness that could be heard in his voice.</p><p>"I knew that." Harry rasped, glaring at the lad as he turned on his heel and walked past him in the opposite direction. It irked him that Pictor seemed so arrogant but in such a playful way. Harry couldn't hate it, it simply intrigued him and he wanted to see more if it.</p><p>Harry let out a childish huff as he heard the man start to follow him, he knew that he wasn't going to lose him that easily. Pictor clearly intended to walk him, protect him on this long walk home and be the hero to his story. Getting the high stranger home in one piece had to be rewarded with copious amounts of brownie points from random onlookers, right?</p><p>"So you gonna tell me where you've been tonight? Or am I just going to have to guess?" Pictor piped up, dragging his feet along the gravel in the most irritating way, the stones scraping the floor under his heavy foot.</p><p>"What does it matter?"</p><p>"I mean you absolutely reek of weed. I just want to know if you're selling?" Pictor teased, making Harry's head snap round to look behind him.</p><p>"What? Of course not." Harry retorted, stopping in his tracks to defensively cross his arms over his chest.</p><p>"Jeez, don't get ya knickers in a twist. I'm pulling your leg. So where did you get it?" Pictor laughed, walking up to Harry and standing so their toes were almost touching. Harry could feel his gaze slowly rising from the man's chest up to those gorgeous blue eyes that seemed to captivate him every single time.</p><p>"It was from a fri-" Harry began but quickly cut himself off, shaking his head and taking a step back. "No. I'm not doing this again." He huffed.</p><p>"Do what exactly?"</p><p>"This." Harry gestured between them both. "Bumping into you again, having a wonderful time and not bloody remembering who you are in the morning. I don't even know your name. You seem to swoop in and then disappear before I'm sober enough to remember you."</p><p>"You never ask me..."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"You never asked my name." Pictor smirked, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder and turned him around, letting it slide down his back and stopped at his lower back, starting to walk with the lad.</p><p>The simple touch seemed to ignite Harry's skin as if he could feel the sun beating down on him on a clear summers day, he swore he could hear a beautiful birdsong in his ears; then again that may just have been from his high, everything seemed brighter in his state of mind but he allowed himself to think it was thanks to Pictor.</p><p>Once again, the man had somehow managed to make a simple gesture feel wanted, feel acceptable in Harry's eyes. For a lad who couldn't even hug his own mother, this was enough. The stranger's touch was quickly becoming something in which his body craved.</p><p>This was a dangerous game Harry was playing. He should probably quit while he's ahead but he simply couldn't bring himself to do so.</p><p>"I just want to chat while we walk, is that such a bad thing?" Pictor asked, his thumb beginning to lightly rub over Harry's spine while they walked.</p><p>"I guess not..." Harry sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets awkwardly, not really knowing what to do with himself. "What are you doing out alone?" Harry suddenly questioned, shooting Pictor a curious look.</p><p>"I was out with some mate for the evening. We meet up once a week outside of uni. We all go to different places or have different classes so we have a detox evening together. Left a little earlier than them, got too rowdy for me." Pictor explained, looking across at him with a gentle grin. "What about you then? You gonna tell me why you smell like a skunk." He asked, raising an eyebrow at Harry.</p><p>"I— Was worked up, a friend said it would calm me down." Harry admitted, looking down at the floor as if he was ashamed by his own confession.</p><p>Harry had done drugs in the past, like most university students that were reckless and experimenting, it was part and parcel these days. Everyone and their mother were selling so it wasn't exactly hard to get hold off. But Harry had slipped down a rabbit hole in the past, taking things a little further than he should have, turning to harder drugs when the weaker stuff just wasn't cutting it for him.</p><p>It took some time and a hell of a lot of begging from Zayn to finally get through to Harry, making him realise if he wasn't careful things were going to end badly for him. Riding close to rock bottom was enough to get Harry to take action and wean himself off slowly.</p><p>Liam may have just opened a Pandora's box for Harry, leading him down that dark path once again.</p><p>"Did it work?"</p><p>"Yeah. Until I got ditched and couldn't remember how I got there." Harry muttered, keeping his eyes glued to the floor as they walked.</p><p>"I knew you didn't know where you were." Pictor gloated, Harry finally meeting his ocean eyes to once again see that smug little grin.</p><p>"Alright. I got lost. Well done you."</p><p>"Someones a sourpuss when they're stoned." Pictor chortled, giving Harry's back a light poke. "Cheer up."</p><p>
  <em>Cheer up?</em>
</p><p>How on earth was he supposed to cheer up when he knew exactly how this night was going to end? He was going to have this most magnificent walk back to his flat and have to say goodbye, wake up and have the agonising realisation that he didn't remember a moment of it.</p><p>"So let me take a stab in the dark here, you study astronomy? Or some cool shit like that?" Pictor asked, clearly trying to fill the silence that had fallen upon them both. "My next guess would be dancing for obvious reasons."</p><p>"Nope." Harry shrugged, looking ahead of them to try and work out where they were, searching for anything that looked remotely familiar to him. "Sorry to disappoint. It's just a hobby."</p><p>"So what are you studying?"</p><p>"Film, cinematics and photography." Harry informed the lad, turning his attention back to him. "What about you. I vaguely remember you saying you studied at my university."</p><p>"Surprisingly, fashion and textiles."</p><p>The answer caught Harry off guard a little, having expected him to say art and design or something close to that; that was going off his assumption that his stargazing chum and the charcoaled stranger were one of the same.</p><p>Pictor must have picked up on his confused expression as he was soon speaking up again.</p><p>"I know, a shock right? Big burly lad like me, into lace and catwalks? Who would have thought." Pictor laughed, lightly nudging Harry.</p><p>Harry was now beginning to doubt the chances that he was the artist from his one night stand. Pictor may have been the wrong name to give him, but it was the only one he had right now.</p><p>This would have been a good idea to finally get the strangers real name, but Harry wanted to pick the timing just right, it would be weird to just blurt such a question out now.</p><p>"What got you into that?" Harry asked, tilting his head as he went to cross the road with the lad when suddenly he felt a firm hand press into his chest to stop him stepping out. Harry staggered back almost losing his footing but was kept up right by the man's hand that had been caressing his back during their walk. He was taken by surprise, wondering why he had been stopped so abruptly.</p><p>A car screeched past the two of them, obnoxious drunkards yelling slurs out of the window as they flew by and Harry instantly felt the same he had all those months ago. The worry of people looking at the two of them and judging them for being close, it was starting to overpower every other feeling he had.</p><p>"You alright?" Pictor asked hastily, seeming to check over Harry as if he had been hurt in some way.</p><p>"I'm fine, thank you." Harry grumbled and pushed the man away slightly. He could take care of himself, he didn't need some stranger swooping in and saving him — his defensive side appearing again.</p><p>"Didn't your mum teach you to look before you cross the road?" The man piped up. Although he was clearly making a joke to lighten the mood, he could hear a subtle tone of irritation and Harry wasn't having it, he wasn't as funny as he thought he was.</p><p>Harry looked both ways, giving both directions a couple of glances just to be sure before he stepped out and made his way across the road.</p><p>"So I got into fashion and textiles when I was younger. Growing up with six younger siblings, there were a lot of hand-me-downs, which meant a lot of repairing and stitching up. My mum taught me and from there fell in love with it." Pictor began, hurrying his pace to catch up with Harry.</p><p>"So you're one of seven? How did your mum have the time?" Harry wondered, swallowing the lump in his throat that had formed from his own questioning.</p><p>The man seemed affectionate, though his childish behaviour often disguised that but Harry could tell by the warmth in his touch that he was never deprived of anything. With six younger children in the house, where did his mother find the time to show him any love. His mother only had two and she struggled to do so, though Harry had nothing against his mother and his upbringing. He knew she had tried her best.</p><p>"The perks of having a large family is there's always time for each other, someones always got time." Pictor chuckled sweetly, shaking his head a little and once again placed his hand on the small of Harry's back. "Not such a large family yourself?"</p><p>Harry easily nodded, about to fight the man's touch again yet couldn't bring himself to do so.</p><p>What was this man doing to him?</p><p>"Just me and my sister. Pretty quiet upbringing." Harry lied, his upbringing certainly wasn't quiet.</p><p>As the two of them turned the corner, joining a road Harry finally recognised, Pictor stopped him once again, this time placing both hands on Harry's shoulder to make him look at him.</p><p>Harry felt anxious, not having an idea on what the lad was doing. What was going to be the man's next move? What was he going to open that smug mouth of his and say? Yet nothing came out. A reassuring smile spread across Pictor's lips, tilting his head and gave Harry a sympathetic look.</p><p>A quick squeeze of Harry's shoulders and then they were off again, like nothing had happened; for Harry it was as though he had been pulled into a tight embrace, surrounded by comfort and safety. It was a brief and strange but it left Harry with an itch for more.</p><p>Ero's arrow was buried deep into Harry's heart by now, overwhelming him with a desire for the man that was walking ahead of him. Harry longed for his touch, to be caressed by those delicate fingers, to be taken into those strong arms and cradled. He longed for the man to take his hand and pull him close to his own body, set his free hand on the small of his back like he had done this even to hold him in place.</p><p>Harry scampered after Pictor, not wanting to be left behind right at the end of their walk. He couldn't let the man disappear before the night was over again.</p><p>"Well, this is you." Pictor announced as they strolled up the drive side by side, arms so close they were almost touching.</p><p>"Fancy coming in for a cup of tea?" Harry offered, hope gleaming in his eyes as he looked up at his new friend, feeling relieved when he received a quick nod from him.</p><p>Harry unlocked the door and slowly led Pictor up to the flat, heading straight for the kitchen. In the moment he really didn't think about whether his family were still here or not, whether the boys were in bed or out doing whatever they did when Harry wasn't around.</p><p>"Milk and sugar?" Harry offered, looking over his shoulder at the man who was resting his lanky body against the wall behind him.</p><p>It was as though Pictor was waiting for something, for Harry to get closer to him, maybe he was waiting for Harry to say something.</p><p>"Just a splash of milk, thanks. I'm sweet enough." Pictor winked and stood upright.</p><p>Harry lightly snorted as the comment, shaking his head. The man was so self-assured, confident to the point he seemed almost egotistical.</p><p>"You really do think the sun shines out your ars--" Harry began, his words cut short as he felt arm snake around his waist and grab a firm hold on his belt on his right side. With a swift and forceful tug on the belt, Harry found himself being spun around, now pinned between the counter and Pictor.</p><p>Harry couldn't help let out a small squeak as he stood, fixed in place as he stared up at the blue eyed boy in shock, his tea spoon still clutched in hand.</p><p>"So beautiful..." Pictor whispered, his eyes raking over Harry's body.</p><p>One of Pictor's hands traveled up from Harry's waist to his cheek, resting it against his burning skin before it moved back to tuck a loose strand of hair. Each movement was slow as if Pictor was hesitant, not wanting to scare him. He was acting like Harry was a deer caught in headlights, cautious in order not to scare him away, seeing as he was easily spooked previous times.</p><p>"If only I cou—" The man tried to whisper but Harry's lips were suddenly on his, resting his hands lightly on Pictor's shoulder, letting the teaspoon drop to the floor.</p><p>Harry couldn't quite work out if he had dreamt the moment into reality, but he was overwhelmed with the raw emotion he felt from the way Pictor's fingers gripped at his waist. How could a simple touch hold so many new feelings? A gentle touch that was filled with sadness, desire and joy, all wrapped up in one.</p><p>With eyes half open as they kissed, Harry allowed himself to steal an adoring gaze at the man each time he came back for air, just to make sure that it wasn't a fragment of his imagination. A mix of sweet vanilla and baby powder filled Harry's nose with each breath that he took, it was as though Pictor was fresh from the shower, leaving the image of his slender digits trailing over his freshly dried skin in an enticing manner.</p><p>For the first time ever, he felt like he knew who he was, escaping the prison he had held himself in for years — denying who he truly was. Everything seemed so obvious with Pictor, like this was exactly where he was meant to be, doing this with him. He didn't feel shy, he didn't want to pull away from the touch; for once he had nothing negative to hold against the affection he was being shown.</p><p>Perhaps it was the person he was with, the safety he felt around him with the man was nearby. Maybe it was the way Pictor's hot breath felt against his skin as his swollen peach lips grazed Harry's neck, sending a shiver right down his spine. The warm feeling was a breath of fresh air, it was alluring and Harry just couldn't control himself.</p><p>Harry's heart began to race as he felt those velvet lips at the side of his neck, just below his ear and the palm of the man's hand pressed against the nape to keep him in place. Pictor's free hand remained tightly gripping at Harry's hip as if he was going to lose him if he let go. Both placements made his entire body tingle, the way their body's were pressed together felt almost forbidden.</p><p>Pictor's hands swiftly moved to wrap around Harry's body as he moved back to connect their lips in another heated kiss, clearly preparing to pick him up and place him somewhere</p><p>That was when Harry had to break himself from the moment, feeling overwhelmed with the action. "Don't. Spoil. It." Harry breathed between kisses, placing his palms firmly on Pictor's chest and starting to guide him back — both stumbling to the sofa blindly as their lips hadn't parted yet.</p><p>Pictor's breath hitched in his throat as he toppled back onto the sofa, followed by a breathy chuckle as he pulled Harry down on top of him. "This okay?"</p><p>"Fine." Harry replied breathlessly, his hands resting either side of Pictor's head while he stared down at him.</p><p>There was a burning in the pit of Harry's stomach, one that rose to his chest when he felt Pictor's hands back on his hips, pulling him down so he was laying on top of the lad; claiming his mouth again. This time it was more hungry, desperate even, the intensity of it causing Harry's body to feel weak, his lips parting when Pictor's tongue begged for entrance.</p><p>A wave of euphoria washed over him, his eyes finally fluttering shut, his stomach knotting at the taste of him. He could taste the sweetness of what he could only assume was a cherry cocktail he had consumed earlier in the night.</p><p>The mix of cherry and vanilla was hypnotising, silencing all of the thoughts that once filled Harry's busy mind. Harry felt as though they were the only ones that existed in this moment, pressed together like there was absolutely no possibility that they could be caught.</p><p>His trauma pushed aside, nonexistent in his mind and it felt so liberating.</p><p>"Louis." Pictor whispered against Harry's swollen lips, causing Harry to snap his head back.</p><p>Did the man really just say someone else's name?</p><p>"What?.. Why would you—"</p><p>"That's my name. Since you never asked."</p><p>Louis...</p><p>The name rolled off the tongue so smoothly, leaving Harry feeling as though he should have been saying it from the beginning. He'd missed out on the warm feeling it left in his chest, feeling privileged to be someone who could call him by his name.</p><p>"Louis..." Harry repeated, taking a moment to catch his breath.</p><p>It wasn't long before Harry's arms had given way and he found himself resting against Louis' body, his tired and fuzzy head nestled against his cotton shirt.</p><p>Louis' fingers started to gently run up and down his back in an attempt to provide some comfort. Harry started off tense but melted into the touch after having an internal debate about whether he should let Louis continue or not.</p><p>"Tell me if it makes you uncomfortable, Harry. I've noticed you are unsure of touch sometimes. Just want to make you feel good..." Louis stated, resting his head back against the arm of the sofa as they laid in silence.</p><p> </p><p>That was the last thing that Harry remembered, the next thing he knew, he was waking up in his own bed once again — just how he had done the morning following their star gazing.</p><p>Harry rolled onto his back with a soft groan, his head pounding from the aftermath of last night's events. He used the back of his index fingers to rub his eyes roughly, trying to remove as much sleep from his lids as possible. He remained motionless on his bed for a few minutes, staring up at the fronds hanging over his shelf as he tried to collect the million thoughts running through his mind.</p><p>"Fuck.." Harry breathed softly, raising his hand to mouth and letting his fingers caress his own lips as memories of last night came flooding back to him. He remembered the sweet cherry taste that was left of his own tongue, the smell of vanilla lingering in his nostrils just as if he were next to him.</p><p>His name. He had told Harry his name and he actually remembered it this time.</p><p>Louis. <em>Louie</em>. Lou</p><p>It was Harry's new favourite word, the way it felt on his tongue, the way it rang in his ears — a calming birdsong on a summer's day.</p><p>"Harry, you up?" Zayn's voice called through the door, turning Harry's attention to his unlocked door, giving him a reason to finally sit up and start his day.</p><p>"Yeah..." Harry trailed off as he threw his quilt aside and rose to his feet in order to open the door to his roommate, wondering if he or Niall had seen anything last night. He stretched his long body out and let out a strained groan as he did, feeling all the tension in his body wither away as if a cool ocean wave had just washed over him.</p><p>Harry pulled his door open, rubbing his tired eyes once more to get a better view of his tall and tanned friend. They exchanged silent glances for a moment before Harry was following Zayn to the kitchen.</p><p>Once they were both hovering in the kitchen, both doing their own thing to look busy, Zayn finally spoke up and filled the awkward silence. "Look, I was kind of hoping we could spend the day together." He muttered, his gaze meeting Harry's. "I feel like we haven't spent a lot of time together recently and I realised—I don't have a clue what's going on in your life..."</p><p>Truth be told, Harry missed spending quality time with Zayn, reminiscing on the days the boys would share everything. They once knew each other like the back of their hands, often knowing what the other was planning before it even happened. They were two peas in a pod, you didn't get one without the other — much like himself and Liam back in the day.</p><p>On a bad day, Harry would always run to Zayn; told him all the horrible things that had come up during the day. Zayn was Harry's walking journal, filled with his deepest and darkest secrets bar one. He'd spend nights scribbling away for hours about almost everything, feeling safe enough to be an open book himself.</p><p>Though, it all stopped after his one night stand. His journal closed up and stored himself as far away as possible.</p><p>Did Zayn really want to know now? Did he really want to hear Harry ramble on about Louis for 12 pages — front and back. Did he really want to know about his one night stand and all the perplexing emotions it left him with.</p><p>Or had he said it to be favourable, perhaps to avoid having a guilty conscience; then again he didn't have anything to be guilty of. Harry once again had gotten them in this position.</p><p>What was Zayn's plan here? Was he about to rekindle their lost friendship?</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. 05</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I'm sorry it took me so long to write this chapter, but here it is!<br/>I spent all night finishing this chapter and crashed in the morning, so I apologise in advance for any mistakes.<br/>Enjoy!</p>
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    <p>It wasn't until this moment that Harry realised he wasn't very good at keeping friends. He had easily lost two of his closest friends, both when times got hard because of situations he had put them in. It was as though after a while a black hole would appear and suck them in, taking them to another dimension, a better one where Harry wasn't part of their lives.</p><p>Though, Zayn hadn't been taken all the way though.</p><p>Not yet.</p><p>Perhaps he was just a terrible friend. Someone who bailed when things got bad or putting those who meant the most to him in the crossfire of his actions. It could have easily been a form of self sabotage, hurt those around him before they could hurt him.</p><p>Whatever it was, he had been given a second chance by both of his old friends — if Liam meant what he said last night and turned up again.</p><p>Harry knew he had to stop doing stupid things to avoid losing Zayn again.</p><p>"I was thinking we could just grab a coffee and walk around campus. I know you have a class later." Zayn shrugged, letting their eyes meet.</p><p>They both stood in the kitchen, Harry holding his freshly made coffee and Zayn with his bowl of Shreddies. A smile spread across Zayn's lips as he spotted the coffee, letting his head fall to the side slightly.</p><p>"Or we can just go for a walk. I see you've got the coffee covered." He added as Harry let out a relaxed chuckle.</p><p>Harry spun on his heel and made his way over to the sofa, setting his mug on the coffee table in front of it before dropping down on a cushioned seat. As soon as the back of his thighs hit the fabric, he felt his heavy limbs sink into it as if he was being absorbed by it, the fabric creeping around his skin and nurturing him. The heaviness in his shoulders melted away gradually.</p><p>Harry went to reach for his coffee when the comforting feeling wore off, his stress worming its way back into his body. As he did, Zayn slumped down next to him, making him lift from his seat and sink back down.</p><p>"Where did you disappear to last night?" Zayn asked, wrapping his lips around the spoon to almost inhale the cereal on it. "Everyone was getting worried."</p><p><em>Crap</em>. He hadn't let anyone know where Robin was. </p><p>Quickly sitting up, Harry dug into his pockets to pull out his phone and get his conversation with his mum up, typing out a quick message to let her know where he was and he was okay. Not that he really was; there was no point upsetting her.</p><p>"I was out looking for Rob and then-- I guess I got distracted. Bumped into an old friend and we hung out for a bit." Harry shrugged nonchalantly, setting his phone screen down on the table before wrapping his fingers around the handle of his mug. "Where did you guys get to? You weren't in when I got back.."</p><p>Zayn mirrored Harry's previous shrug and shoved another massive spoonful of Shreddies into his mouth. "We all got hungry waiting for you so we ended up going out for dinner. Niall's idea. I think he was trying to impress your sister." He chuckled while finishing off his mouthful.</p><p>"Niall was trying it on with Gem?..." Harry inquired, his face scrunching up slightly at the thought. "I'm not having a drunk Irishman for a brother-in-law."</p><p>Everyone knew what Niall was like, hopping from relationship to relationship, a new girl at his side at every party like they were just accessories to his outfits. He wasn't one to fall in love, Harry was sure that he didn't even know what the word was. In Harry's eyes the lad didn't care about settling down, he spent most evenings getting completely inebriated, chatting up random girls at parties and never bothering to remember their names.</p><p>Harry's current nightmare was Niall's reality, his day to day routine and he seemed so unruffled by it all. It was mind boggling how blasé he was about it, a true heartbreaking in his stride.</p><p>Though he liked to play the ladies man, the typical uni drunkard, Harry could see through the façade, knowing his true personality was generous and gentle, a charming young lad; not charming enough for his darling sister though.</p><p>An awkward silence fell between them, neither of them knowing what to say next. It had been a few months since they had spent the day together, it was like going on a first day, both letting their nerves get the best of them.</p><p>"So..." Zayn trailed off with yet another spoonful being shoved into his mouth, Harry wondered where the man put it all. His cheeks were full like a hamsters as he chewed slowly, making Harry shake his head fondly at the action.</p><p>"So..."</p><p>"What's new in the life of Harry Styles? Anyone new, since you know..." Zayn hinted, wiggling his eyebrows playfully as if he was trying to make the question less daunting.</p><p>"You really don't have to ask questions you don't want the answer to, Z." Harry sighed, watching as he made his coffee swirl around the mug, threatening to spill every now and again — much like his emotions right now.</p><p>"Look, mate. I know how I've acted in the past about it. But it was just a shock." Zayn admitted, practically tossing his empty bowl onto the table. "But I get it. You like me-"</p><p>"Can we talk about this later? Not here." Harry interrupted quickly and practically downing his coffee as if it were a shot of Vodka. He wasn't going to have this conversation, not here, the one place he classed as a safe.</p><p>With that answer, Zayn was quick to bounce onto his feet and grinned at Harry, holding his hand out and bending over like a prince asking for a dance. The action made Harry roll his eyes and let a breathy chuckle pass his lips, shaking his head at how silly the man in front of him was being.</p><p>Harry took the outreached hand, hulling himself to his feet with his friend's help. "Why thank you, kind sir." Harry mocked, throwing a ridiculous looking face in Zayn's direction while he made his way over to the shoe rack.</p><p>It was as though they couldn't leave the house quick enough after that, longing for the open space and peacefulness that would surround them. Harry certainly didn't want to feel trapped in his own flat,  like a dragonfly in amber, simply hoping he could keep the place filled with nothing but positivity and the memory of <em>Louis.</em></p><p>The man in his dreams. The man <em>of</em> his dreams?</p><p>Perhaps he would be able to tell Zayn all about his evening with the gorgeous stranger, how he had come into his life like a mini tornado, leaving a path of confusion and disorientation. However, he was sure that America hadn't had this many tornadoes appear in the space of a week.</p><p>Harry could finally have someone to talk to about his one night stand, about the way his friends took step back made him feel. He could admit to how lonely his life was without his two roommates to turn to and how Louis had swooped in and replaced all of that loneliness in the space of one night.</p><p>They found themselves perched on a wall on campus, staring out at the bustling courtyard and watching students pass them by. Harry often tried to gage their stories by their distant expressions and body language, always curious as to what could possibly be going on in their life and what brought them here.</p><p>Of course, Harry was only really looking for his stargazer.</p><p>"I actually wanted to ask you something..." Zayn finally muttered, nudging Harry's side sharply and just from that Harry knew it was a relatively serious question.</p><p>Zayn was giving Harry the impression that he was nervous, with the way his fingers picked at the cotton fabric of his sleeve and the way his full pink lips parted and reconnected like he was struggling to find the right words. "How did you- When did you know you were gay?"</p><p>The question had certainly caught Harry off guard, having expected him to ask about his one night stand again, not his sexuality. The question itself left a curious mark on Harry, leaving his skin tingling at the anticipation of where in the world it had stemmed from.</p><p>"In a way, I guess I've always known." Harry admitted, mimicking Zayn's nervous actions. He'd never really spoken about his sexuality to anyone, not with how things were in their town, he just had to pretend that he was straight to fit in with the town's views.</p><p>In the beginning, it was easy, telling himself that his feelings were just a passing phase. He believed things would eventually sort themselves out, that if he dated enough girls he would eventually fool himself into actually liking them.</p><p>Harry hadn't been in a lot of relationships in his lifetime, having only had one girlfriend when he was younger and a quick fling with a guy when he first started Uni, but he was just never interested in any of it. The idea of dating seemed tedious and so very pointless, if it was only going to end in divorce, why should he put himself through the heartache in the first place. For a few measly years of happiness?</p><p>Why would anyone bother with it?</p><p>The first relationship he ever had was with a beautiful blonde girl from his high school. Her name was Rosie and at the time, he was head over heels for her; practically worshiped the ground she walked on — it was pitiful really, considering the attraction and affection wasn't really reciprocated.</p><p>Harry put his heart and soul into that relationship, trying to sweep her off her dainty little feet with romantic — mostly expensive — dates and spoiling her with gifts.</p><p>They dated for around two years, Harry following her around like a lost puppy, pining over the girl who clearly didn't feel the same about him. It was obvious to everyone but him apparently, though it did seem to make him a lot more desirable to the other girls around the school, wanting the curly haired lad to crave their attention the way Harry did Rosie's.</p><p>In those two years, Harry and Rosie had never laid together, even though he believed he 'loved' her. When the moment arose, both teenagers seemed to find the perfect excuse not to.</p><p>The most he got from her was an awkward hand job in the cleaning closet on their extremely mundane prom night, which was cut short when they were rudely interrupted by someone knocking on the door and telling them to get out. It was definitely one of the most embarrassing moments in his life, the walk of shame they had to do once they appeared from the closet, his raging boner visible in his tight suit pants.</p><p>Unbeknown to Harry, he would later catch his prom date kissing another guy in the back of the hall, hidden dreadfully behind the deflating balloon arch.</p><p>After that, Harry started to realise he was putting all that effort into his relationship because it was the start of his denial.</p><p>In actuality, he was more upset that Rosie was being kissed <em>by</em> the guy than her kissing someone else. He couldn't reel his thoughts in, the ones of Matt cornering him like that and making out with one another like no one was watching.</p><p>There was that raging boner again. This time it was for Matt.</p><p>The fling he had was a few years later, just before he left home and started to sofa surf at his friends. It was actually the reason he left home all together, but that was for another time.</p><p>"Why do you ask?" Harry inquired, raising his eyebrows a little as he tilted his head to the side. Zayn had to have a reason for his line of questions.</p><p>"I don't know... Recently I've been feeling different"</p><p>Zayn seemed to take a pause, as though the words were swirling around his mind like a whirlpool only to come spilling out his mouth moments later.</p><p>"Don't get me wrong. I love Ali- Things just feel different. Guys catch my eye as they pass, I find myself flirting sometimes and-" Zayn began to ramble, his hand gestures becoming more exaggerated as he seemed to get worked up by it.</p><p>"It's okay, you know? Took me a while to realise that myself. But liking guys isn't wrong. You like who you like, no one can ever make you feel differently. They can try but don't let it get to you." Harry stated reassuringly, flashing a toothy grin at him and gently placing a hand on Zayn's thigh — a quick pat before bringing it back to his own lap.</p><p>"But I like girls, H. I do. Hence why I'm still with Ali. But- well, I want to explore. I want to find out who I am..."</p><p>"Then explore. I wouldn't tell Alice that though." Harry chuckled, nudging his friend's side. "Meaning maybe don't tell her that's why you're breaking up with her. I'm not telling you to explore behind her back." He corrected quickly, not wanting to be a reason for Zayn cheating.</p><p><em>'Harry told me to.'</em>  He could hear the words already.</p><p>"I don't even know where to start..." Zayn let out a sigh, his eyes meeting Harry's quickly, filled with a helpless gaze, much like a child that had just lost their parent in a store.</p><p>"Start by sitting down with Alice, be honest with her. If you want to tell her how you're really feeling, then do it. Just don't lead her on, yeah?"</p><p>"Yeah..."</p><p>Yet another awkward silence, both fiddling with their sleeves to fill the gap between their conversation as though they had nothing better to do. Harry prayed Zayn would speak up next, Harry wasn't very good at friendly and advice filled conversations anymore. Opening up was just scratching at the coffin door that he was trapped in, never actually getting out, just making a small dent.</p><p>"Is that what your one night stand was? Exploring?"</p><p>"No. Possibly. I don't know really." Harry sighed heavily, raising his hand to scratch at the back of his tacky neck. He couldn't let his emotions over power him here, not when talking to Zayn about his one night stand, about the artist's room that he surrounds himself in every night when he shut his eyes. He wanted to tell Zayn about the speckled lilac jumper that he wished would envelop him in its warmth, leaving his skin tingling from the delicate fabric that rubbed against it.</p><p>"I don't remember a lot about it, honestly. I think it was a fuck you to everyone who told me I shouldn't do it. Drunk enough to actually go through with it. I just remember..." Harry trailed off and let his fingers trail up his arm, all the way to his shoulder where he gave it a light squeeze — to reassure himself.</p><p>"I remember a few drinks in, sitting with you and Niall. But it gets a little fuzzy after the beer pong." Harry admitted, turning his head to look at his best friend with a nervous smile. "Then I remember waking up his bed. I remember the way his fingertips felt against my skin, how he ran his fingers up and down my spine ever so slightly as he began to stir."</p><p>"I remember watching you run in the flat like you were being chased... We'd heard about it before you even made it home."</p><p>"It's been months since it happened, but I still think about the colour of his walls that matched his jumper in the far corner. I think about how I could hear his heartbeat against my ear. I remember waking up and having a brief moment thinking that that was where I wanted to spend my days, watching him paint and get lost in his own world." Harry babbled on.</p><p>It was the first time he had really spoken to anyone about it, having bottled it and stored it on a shelf at the back of his mind for so long now that it was collecting dust. It felt liberating, yet he was still apprehensive about Zayn's reaction to it all. He had to be cautious, he couldn't give his friend another reason to distance himself.</p><p>"He really did a number on you, didn't he?" Zayn smirked softly, clearly seeing how smitten Harry was by the stranger.</p><p>"Well it's not just him... There's this other guy." Harry began, the skin under his shirt starting to tingle — Louis was the one who had really done a number on him. "He's the guy from the party, the one I asked you about. He keeps popping up, in times I seem to need... him. He walked me home last night, after I got lost. He caught me when I fell off the table. But it's always when I'm in a terrible state, drunk or... high."</p><p>"You're doing drugs again?" Zayn asked, the disappointment thick in his usually relaxing voice.</p><p>"No. It was a one off. But that's not the point. The point is I want to remember him, I want to find out who he really is and why he is always around when I need him. I want to know if he is the guy I slept with all those months ago." Harry let out in a low groan, palms covering his face as he rubbed it roughly.</p><p>"Look, lets go get you another coffee and you can tell me all about this man. Don't spare on any details." Zayn hummed, getting up and walking towards the cafe they always disappear to for their heart to hearts.</p><p>Harry spent the afternoon telling his friend everything. Once the pin had come out, there was no stopping him from spilling all the things that had happened recently. It was like someone was holding the trigger to a hose, rushing his words out like he couldn't say them quick enough, attempting to quench the desperation that was growing, the need to get everything off of his chest.</p><p>By the time they got back to their flat, he felt like he had finally restored something that was once broken. With empty take away cups and minds, it was certainly a weight that had been lifted from him. They had rekindled their relationship and  it felt almost surreal.</p><p>Zayn was telling Harry about a party that was taking place at another student complex down the road, when Harry opened the door and there stood the distraught buzz cut kid, the one who had disappeared on him last night.</p><p>"Harry, I am so sorry! I went for a piss and when I got back you..." Liam started frantically, trailing off when he noticed the tanned lad tucked away behind him.</p><p>"You walked off while I was talking to you." Harry retorted, strolling past Liam to throw his cup in the bin, catching the confused look on Niall's face.</p><p>He was completely out of the loop at this point and clearly wasn't happy about it. Neither was Harry, though.</p><p>Liam turned on his heel quickly, shaking his head instantly as he stumbled after Harry. "I was busting for a wee, Harry. I was literally in the bushes across from you. When I turned back you were gone." Liam groaned, reaching out and grabbing hold of Harry's wrist to make him look at him.</p><p>"Don't." Harry snapped, snatching his arm back roughly. "Why didn't you call me? Tell me where you were."</p><p>"I don't know where my phone is.." Liam sighed, playing with his hands nervously.</p><p>Could Harry really stay mad at him? They were both high after all.</p><p>If it wasn't for Liam, Harry wouldn't have bumped into Louis and he wouldn't have spent his evening making out with an incredibly hot stranger.</p><p>"I mean...It's fine. It happened, I didn't get kidnapped or beaten up so I guess I can't stay mad." Harry teased, hoping to lighten the suffocating and awkward mood that surrounded them all.</p><p>How else was Harry supposed to handle the situation? Kick off and leave the room in an uncomfortable atmosphere.</p><p>"I'm assuming Liam has introduced himself to you, Nialler... So Zayn, this is a childhood friend of mine, Liam. Li, this is Zayn. A very good friend and roommate." Harry introduced, watching the two  of them shake hands and smile — almost timidly — at each other.</p><p>It was rather strange, he'd never seen Zayn this shy.</p><p>Harry, of course, had a feeling he knew why; he just hoped Zayn would remember Alice before doing anything damaging.</p><p>"So did Zayn tell you about the party?" Niall piped up, joining Harry in the kitchen.</p><p>"Yeah, not sure if I'm gonna go though. I have so much coursework to catch up on."</p><p>"Oh come on, I've spent the last 20 minutes convincing your weird friend to come. Don't make me do the same to you." Niall huffed, resting himself back against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest.</p><p>"He's not weird, Niall. Don't be mean. Zayn seemed to like him." Harry smiled as he looked over his shoulder to see the two conversing. "I'll go if we can all have a break from partying the rest of the week and study together like we did in the beginning of uni?"</p><p>"Deal!"</p><p>A shake of the hands and the deal was made, Harry was just glad Niall had stopped spitting in his hand before he shook hands on his compromises.</p><p>Disgusting.</p><p>They all spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in the living room, idly chatting while Harry tried to do some uni work from the flat to simply pass time. Harry was soon shuffling down the hall to his room, trying to decide on what he was going to wear, he had to find something impressive — in case Louis was there.</p><p>An ordinary white tee would be his usual go to, paired with black skinny jeans and perhaps a bandana if he was feeling adventurous.</p><p>No, not this time. He had to think outside the box, wear something that would catch the eye of his admirer, possible admirer.</p><p>Harry stood at his closet, letting his emerald eyes scan through the dreary clothes stacked and lined up, side by side by side. An array of greys, whites and blacks were the only options in his sight.</p><p>Just then, packed tightly between his jeans, he spotted a pearlescent sleeve poking out and he knew it was perfect for tonight. The light would reflect off of it in the right way, like a mirror moving against the sunlight to catch Louis' attention, if he was there.</p><p>Harry was quick like a whippet to pluck the silk shirt from its prison and held it out in front of him, inspecting the quality. It needed a bit of an iron and the two top buttons were missing but no lasting damage, nothing that gave him a reason not to wear it. He would probably leave the third button undone as well, reserved yet a little slutty.</p><p>Was that really the look Harry wanted to go for?</p><p>Yes. Yes it was. The sluttier the better, no?</p><p>Harry made his way into the bathroom, pulling the small ironing board from behind the door and the iron from the cupboard under the sink.</p><p>It was student accommodation, things were put wherever you could fit them, hence why the ironing supplies, several pans that didn't fit in the kitchen (which had never been used since they moved in) and Zayn's weights were all somehow crammed into their bathroom. </p><p>With the board set up, Harry flipped the silk shirt inside out and made sure the iron itself was on a low heat, not wanting to ruin the only item of clothing he owned that stood out.</p><p>Once the shirt was straightened out, he carefully slipped it on, standing in front of the bathroom mirror to check himself out, gently tucking the bottom into his unzipped jeans. Harry took a deep breath as his eyes trailed over the silk fabric that covered his skin, taking in how it hung loosely over his arms, fascinated by how it seemed to cling to his skin even though it was loose, how it defined muscles that Harry didn't even know he had.</p><p>As he began to roll the sleeves up, letting his fingers linger on the fabric for a moment, he started to realise how good he felt in it. He had an unexpected surge of confidence, feeling as though he could feel it flowing through his veins. Harry couldn't take his eyes off himself, turning slowly on the pad of his foot but his eyes were glued to his own body, hypnotised by the way the fabric caught the light.</p><p>"Oh... Wow..." He breathed out, his fingers still fiddling with the silk that covered his body.</p><p>Keeping his hands to himself was a losing game, wanting to feel the delicate material caress his skin forever. The feel of his own touch, mixed with the tingly sensation the silk left was almost overwhelming and as embarrassing as it was, he could feel his boxers getting reasonably tighter beneath his unzipped jeans.</p><p>For the first time in a while, Harry felt elegant, beautiful even. It felt like he was finally embracing himself, accepting parts of him that he had suppressed for years.</p><p>As he cleared his throat, Harry padded out of the bathroom promptly, not bothering to clean up the mess he had made. Though he was sure to turn the iron off, of course. He wasn't that irresponsible. Or that desperate to get his hands around his own cock, actually.</p><p>Harry closed his bedroom door swiftly, grabbing the key off his desk and locking it quickly. This was the exact reason Harry had invested in the lock. Privacy.</p><p>Once the door was locked, Harry made his way to the bed, shucking off his jeans with each step he took - leaving the shirt on. By the time he was kneeling at the foot of his bed, his jeans were in a pile a few steps away from him and his hand was resting over his hardening dick that was still trapped beneath his boxer-briefs.</p><p>He had time. He was sure of that.</p><p>He was just glad that the curtains were still drawn from this morning.</p><p>Harry casually shifted on his bed so his back was resting up against the pillows, letting his free hand rest easily on his freshly-laundered cotton bedsheets. He'd get under them but honestly, he didn't want to make too much of a mess on them. He let his eyes gaze around the room for a moment, trying not to let himself get too excited. He wanted to make this moment last, like all of his moments of touch. It made stimulating touch a little more enjoyable for him.</p><p>His eyes started to flutter shut as his fingers began to lightly trace over his own length. His mind was shrouded in darkness, unable to fill it with anything that would aid him in getting harder, his touch alone wasn't enough. He needed to think of something or someone would get him in the right mood.</p><p>But what do you think about when touch is something that makes you feel uncomfortable.</p><p>That's when the darkness somewhat lifted and perhaps it was the curtain being blown open by the window that was often open ajar, but Harry's mind began to fill with the brightest star he could think of, even brighter than Sirius itself. The star that seemed to drift into his life with ease, sweep him off his feet and leave without a trace.</p><p>Louis.</p><p>The brightest star in his sky.</p><p>Harry thought about their evening making out on the sofa and instantly he could feel himself getting harder, it was insane what power this man had over Harry. He wasn't even here and Harry was at his mercy, pining after him and longing for him to be nestled in beside him.</p><p>Taking a deep shaky breath, he pressed the palm of his hand firmly against his cock, moving his hand in a leisurely motion. Harry never liked to rush his orgasms, the best kind were certainly those that took time and ones he was in control of. He didn't have a lot in his life that he could control so he had to make the most of it.</p><p>After a few firm and yet teasing strokes through the fabric of his boxers, Harry hooked his thumbs under the waistband and wiggled his way out of them, letting a soft gasp as he felt the silk fabric rest over the tip of his ever hardening cock.</p><p><em>'So beautiful...' </em>Louis' voice echoed through his mind and suddenly it felt like the bed dipped beside him. All he could see was his cocky little ball of sunshine, watching over him with that shit-eating grin, eager to see what Harry was going to do to himself and the sight was enough to make his cock bounce against his stomach.</p><p>Harry inhaled through his nose slowly, holding it for a second before he allowed his fingers to drop to his aching length, wrapping around them around it as he blew the breath out just as slowly. Harry couldn't help but imagined the way Louis' fingers would look wrapped around him, how those dainty, but still strong, nimble and well-manicured digits would make his dick look much bigger in compassion. He could perfectly see the twenty-eight tattoo staring back at him, slightly blurred from the motion of Louis' flexing wrist.</p><p>The whole scenario felt coarse, he shouldn't be thinking of the stranger in such a way but here he was, imagining the hand wrapped around his cock was Louis', dreaming of the sweet and cocky things that Louis would be saying to him.</p><p>'<em>Lift that gorgeous shirt up, Starboy... Don't want to make a mess on it now do we? ' </em>And Harry obliged immediately, letting out a shaky breath while his fingertips trailed up his smooth inked skin, taking pit stops at each tattoo as they were revealed and remembering the sting that washed over him with each stroke.</p><p>First was one of the ferns, his fingers dipping into his skin as he traced over the shape and letting a hum out at the pressure. He slowly made his way up to his butterfly tattoo and it was as though he had tiny little butterflies in his stomach, being led by his digits and the fabric, making his way up. Soon enough his fingers were at his chest and it took him no time to begin pinching at his already hard; tight nipples, alternating between the two of them while his other hand worked over his cock.</p><p><em>'So beautiful...'</em> Louis' voice echoed again, sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. Harry was quick to bridge his hips to meet his hand, a sweet and desperate whimper passed his lips as Louis crawled between his legs, looking up at him through those sinfully long lashes. The sight left him eager for more, biting down on his bottom lip as Louis began to stroke him harder and faster.</p><p>He could feel a damp patch on the bottom of the shirt from where it had been rested against his leaking tip, but in the moment he really couldn't care about it, it would be more than easy to hide it within his jeans. To be honest, he couldn't give a fuck if he got the whole bloody thing messy, all he could care about was how Louis' hand felt around his throbbing dick.</p><p>Harry's breath hitched, a stained moaned leaving his parted lips, simply picturing Louis' supple lips inches away from him, his tongue running along them in a slow and captivating way. So close yet he was so far, the agonising need to feel the wetness of Louis' mouth around him, sucking the life out of him.</p><p>He rocked his hips up into Louis' desperately as the movement from his wrist began to ease, leaving him craving for the sweet release that Louis could reward him with, no edging like he usually did. He had no self control, he couldn't stop or slow down, knowing Louis wouldn't make him wait, or maybe he would. Perhaps Louis would be into the whole teasing and edging kink, wanting Harry to beg for him to let him cum.</p><p>Quietness was key this time though, he couldn't let his roommates on to what he was doing.</p><p>Harry felt like he was going to explode, the fingers that were still toying with his nipples dropped down to his pristine white sheets, the purest little whimpers and whines escaping him while Louis' wrist began pumping and twisting again. Harry's toes curled, his back arching and his jaw clenched, using every muscle in his body to hold out a moment longer, knowing at any moment he would be awash with an unholy amount of pleasure -- subconsciously waiting for Louis' permission, like the good boy he was.</p><p>Louis bowed his head lazily as Harry gazed down at him with lidded eyes, desperation oozing from him and it wasn't the only thing that was starting to leaking, pre-cum slicking up Louis' dainty fingers as he worked over Harry's cock faster.</p><p>Harry let out a strained cry as he finally let himself go, muffled by his power to hold his bottom lip in with his pretty little bunny teeth. He almost broke as the cum shot over his hand and onto his stomach, a warmth pooling just above his butterfly, just between his pecs where his chest dipped, his body shuddering and twitching as he tried to get through it.</p><p>Imagining Louis' petite wrist stroking him, but at a much steadier speed; still a firm hold on his cock as he worked him through his orgasm, all the way through to the point where he was overly sensitive. His hips bucked at each stroke until he finally had to let himself go, hand falling beside his trembling thighs, sprawled out on his bed as he fought to get his breath back while beads of sweat kissed his flushed cheeks.</p><p>He swore he could see stars, surrounding Louis who had a mischievous smirk plastered across his face. It was remarkable, how a man who wasn't even in the room had just given him the best orgasm of his life, Harry could only imagine what would happen if Louis ever got his hands on him in real life, how overwhelming and paradisiacal that orgasm would be, Louis could quite possibly <em>kill</em> him and Harry had no problems with that.</p><p>This hand job was indescribable compared to the unfinished one he had gotten on his prom night and with only the thought of Louis and his own hand.</p><p>Once Harry had recovered, more or less, he let his eyes flicker open and naturally, the pretty boy at the end of his bed disappeared. His shooting star had come and gone, like he frequently did in person, at least a dream had come true, a dirty one, be that as it may. He wanted to stay in his bubble a moment longer, cherish the presence of the irresistible lad, but he had to clean up and get ready before his roommates began to question what was taking him so long to get ready.</p><p>Harry stretched out, reaching for the old shirt that had been thrown on his bed earlier that morning and wiped himself clean. He sat up, casually nabbing a clean pair of boxer-briefs from his bedside draw while he used the heel of his foot to drag his discarded jeans over to him. It took a matter of seconds for him to dress himself and fix his hair into a tight bun again, he didn't want to leave anything that would advertise what he had just done.</p><p>Luckily for Harry, none of the other boys were ready for their night out, not even Liam, who he presumed was with Zayn, scavenging for something to wear tonight. He situated himself in the kitchen, his mind dwelling on his and Louis's last encounter, their last real encounter that was.</p><p>It really wasn't long before Harry found himself stood at the door of a random student house, music blasting so loud that they had heard it from the end of the street and from that Harry sensed that this night was going to be a complete disaster. Most frat like parties were the most dangerous, the type of parties where police were called and arrests were made.</p><p>How this evening was going to end was a mystery but Harry knew, no matter what happened, he had to be on his best behaviour, he couldn't let his night end be the one that ended in catastrophe.</p><p>"What you drinking, Harold?" Zayn called, looking over his shoulder as they all scuffled through the tightly packed house to the kitchen, Liam seemingly connected at Zayn's hip.</p><p>"Anything you can get your hands on, mate!" Harry grunted over the deafening music and mindless chatter from strangers that surrounded them, each seeming as though they were trying to be louder than the other.</p><p>It was hard to move in the overpopulated room, sweaty bodies pressed against each form wall-to-wall, undoubted the last place Harry wanted to be right now. It left Harry feeling suffocated, instantly hunting for his nearest escape route, hoping that wherever it led, it would be a little more open plan than it was now.</p><p>As soon as they all had a drink in hand, Harry managed to convince them all to head out the back door with him, knowing they'd have a bit more freedom to move out in the garden while still being at the heart of the party. That was all his friends cared about, right? Being the life and soul of a party.</p><p>With everyone on their first drinks, everything was going smoothly, no hiccups yet. <em>Yet, </em>was the key word here. Harry knew a few more drinks down the line and things would get messy, he personally was trying to keep a level head, not wanting a repeat of the night he met Louis.</p><p>Zayn and Liam seemed to really, stood a distance from the bench that Harry had perched himself on, discussing everything and anything. It was heartwarming to see two of his dearest friends getting along like a house on fire. Niall was somewhere in the distance, clearly attempting to pick up a girl who didn't look all that interested, leaving him alone on the back porch. It gave him some time to people-watch and hopefully spot the man that had been driving him crazy over the last few days.</p><p>Although, Louis was nowhere to be seen and as much as Harry didn't want to admit it, he was disappointed that he wasn't. He was always appearing wherever he was, so why not now? Did he have more important things to tend to? Perhaps he was back at his mothers house, surrounded by his siblings, creating them the most mesmerising costumes with his creative finger -- tender finger, that running along the velvety material.</p><p>"I see what you're doing..." Zayn whispered to Harry as he joined the curly haired lad on the bench, a breathy chuckle leaving Zayn's lips as he handed Harry a new drink.</p><p>"Me?" Harry gasped playfully, whipping his head round to look at the lad. "I can see the heart eyes from here, Z. I told you to talk to Alice first, it's not fair on Liam or Ali, leading them both on and--."</p><p>"Calm down, Romeo. I'm just being friendly."</p><p>"Friendly? Didn't know touching someone that much was something friends did, I haven't seen you laugh at my jokes like that. Where's my special treatment?" Harry teased, poking his tongue out.</p><p>"Well my friend, your jokes are atrocious. Tell me a joke, redeem yourself."</p><p>"Alright! Can you tell me the distance from Betelgeuse to Procyon using a standard chart?..."</p><p>Zayn's blank expression said it all really.</p><p>"About an inch and a half!" Harry giggled, like a child who had said the funniest thing ever or a collection of naughty words.</p><p>"I don't even get it, mate. That's how bad it is." Zayn grinned, shaking his head slowly.</p><p>"Whatever, all I'm saying is, be careful. Liam's an incredibly kindhearted guy. I hurt him once and I don't want you doing the same thing, alright?" Harry warned Zayn, pinching the side of his arm with a smile.</p><p>"He really is a phenomenal man, just listening to all the things he's gotten up to... He was telling me all about his tattoos and I had to ask him to speak slower, I wanted to cling on to each word, listen to the way he pronounced his words, watch his tongue--"</p><p>"Smitten, aren't you?" Harry smirked, enjoying seeing his roommate in the same position as himself.</p><p>Zayn couldn't nod quick enough, refusing to tear his attention away from the buzz cut kid who was standing at the fire pit. "Do you reckon you could put in a good word for me? I promise I'll talk to Ali tomorrow." Zayn begged, giving Harry puppy dog eyes in an attempt to convince his friend.</p><p>"Fine. But don't rush it, make sure this is what you want..."</p><p>A few hours later, Harry, Liam and his roommates found themselves huddled around the fire pit. It hadn't taken Harry long to forget about being level headed, the man, the myth, the legend, Five Drink Harry had finally arrived. He was singing along to songs he didn't know, talking to complete strangers and was still showing his go-go dancer skills, throwing his arms in the air and howling excitedly when a great song came on -- like a teenage girl on a night out with her girlfriends.</p><p>Liam turned to Harry suddenly, cupping his cheeks with wide eyes and parting his lips to say something, which looked like he was about to impart wisdom upon him. Harry's eyes mimicked Liam's for a moment, his mind racing with the million possibilities of what Liam could say next. Was he about to tell him about finding the spark that Zayn had felt earlier in the evening.</p><p>"I remember where it is!" Liam suddenly revealed, his hands moving to Harry's shoulders. "I know where my phone is!"</p><p>"Where?..." Harry slurred, tilting his head slightly, as if he were a puppy that didn't quite understand what was being said.</p><p>"Come with me to get it?"</p><p>Liam didn't have to ask Harry twice, it was an excuse to leave the party, to depart before any mishaps occurred. Harry was confident that he was going to escape the night without a single blunder.</p><p>Harry was hauled along by Liam, who's hand was firmly wrapped around his wrist, trying his best to keep up but with his blurred vision, accompanied by his inability to put one foot in front of the other, it was proving an impossible task.</p><p>A walk that should have taken them a measly five minutes had taken them almost fifteen, both giggling at the state of the other and constantly shushing each other. Harry's feet had carried him as far as they could, his entire body stiffening and feet coming to a halt as he was met with the familiar surroundings of hell.</p><p>The moment they had passed his vintage beetle, the one he had left parked up on the street the day before, Harry had an inkling of where they were going, he just assumed Liam wasn't stupid enough to go back.</p><p>The air went cold, as if a ghost has walked straight through him and maybe that was exactly what it had been -- the presence of all the innocence he lost in the prison that stood before him. It sent a shiver down Harry's spine as he was faced with a moment of deja vu, seeing Liam stood in front of the door again. He had been here before, he had seen how it played out and the wild goose chase they went on to find his step father. He could only pray they weren't about to go on another.</p><p>"He's not in..." Liam huffed, turning on his heel and began to head round the side of the house, causing Harry to scramble after him in an attempt not to be left alone. "I know exactly where it is... We just sneak in, grab it and leave."</p><p>"That's idiotic, are you trying to get us killed?" Harry hissed, taking hold of Liam's arm and trying to pull him back.</p><p>"He's not home, Harry. It'll be fine."</p><p>Without another word, Liam stopped at a window, pulling off his shirt and wrapping it tightly around his hand entirely before picking up a small rock. He glanced back at Harry, who was shaking his head rapidly.</p><p>"Please don't do th--"</p><p>Before Harry could even finish his protest, the rock and Liam's fist broke through the glass window. Harry flinched and looked around as the shatter of the glass ricocheted off every surrounding tree, wall and bush. Anyone could have heard it, they could have already called the police, Damien might even be on his way back.</p><p>Liam was quick to ditch the rock, reaching back in to lift the latch on the outdated window and hoisted the window open, climbing in and casually holding out his hand for the anxious Harry who had refused to move so far.</p><p>"Come on." Liam begged, beckoning Harry closer with his fingers, popping his head out slightly to catch Harry's gaze. Harry couldn't help but whine a little as he staggered forward, and climbed through the window with Liam's help.</p><p>Where was Five Drink Harry now? Why did it feel like he had sobered up the moment he clambered in through the window, leaving all his courage outside, along with his skeleton apparently. As he began to look around the room, his legs began to turn into jelly. This was his room, his childhood bedroom that now seemed so much smaller, though that may have been Harry's panic setting in.</p><p>Damien hadn't changed a thing, everything was in the exact same place it was the night Harry left. His posters were still hung up on the wall, all of his trophies were on their shelf and collecting dust. His tiny succulent collection -- the beginning of an obsession--  was still settled on the window seal, untouched and a little faded from the sunlight. The entire room felt indifferent, a trace of the innocence he left behind lingered in the air, as if it were an abandoned child in a playground, having too much fun to realise the impending tragedy that was about to hit.</p><p>Liam let out a small noise and raised his arms in a silent moment of triumph when he found his phone on the desk beside the door, swivelling around to look at Harry with a grin.</p><p>"Liam... What is your phone doing in my room?" Harry inquired, not knowing whether he wanted to actually know the answer.</p><p>"You're dad was showing me around. You know, it's pretty deceitful, this house. From the outside it's exactly how I remember it, depressing and horrific. But the inside-- It's like a haven, so bright and spacious. He's worked really hard on the place, on himse-"</p><p>"I don't care, stop talking and put your shirt back on, for fuck sake." Harry spat, folding his arms across his chest.</p><p>Liam's features softened as he looked around and began to amble around the room, reminiscing on the nights he spent in Harry's childhood room, cuddled up under a blanket and watching a film on Harry's laptop to drown out the drunken antics that Damien got up to.</p><p>"Remember when we used to dress up in your sisters clothes and put on plays? You always had to wear those awful fishnet tights or you'd sulk the entire night?" Liam chuckled, stepping closer to Harry, closing the gap that was between then until they were merely inches apart.</p><p>Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, his breath catching in his throat as Liam tilted his head to the side and moved in for a kiss, parting his lips slowly. He grabbed hold of Harry's hips, pulling him in closer and letting their lips graze of his for a brief moment.</p><p>Perhaps Harry was just a whore. All these men, always drunk. Was this really what his life had come to?</p><p>It didn't really have the same effect as Louis' attention grabber last night,  nor were his lips as soft. He just wasn't Louis and in a way it felt as though he was cheating on him, even though he had no reason to feel guilty at all.</p><p>"Li, st-"</p><p>
  <em>Time was up.</em>
</p><p>The bedroom door swung up with such force that Harry was positive that it was going to come straight off its hinges and an enraged Damien appeared in the dimly lit hallway with an almost empty bottle of whiskey in hand, the darkness behind him casting unnerving shadows.</p><p>Harry had been here before, he had seen the look in his eyes before, disgust, hatred and ungodly rage, it was a thing of nightmares. Harry couldn't believe he was relieving the worst night of his life, the paralysing fear taking over every limb in his body, he knew how it ended, he knew he was completely defenceless.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. 06</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was only one time in Harry's life where he truly thought he was going to die, and that was the night he and Liam had been caught — hence the whole feeling of deja vu. This whole scenario had been in this situation before, with the exact same person, getting caught doing almost the same thing; a different age. No longer seventeen, but an almost twenty year old.</p><p>That was until now, staring at the devil himself.</p><p>Damien charged into the room, screeching profanities and homophobic slurs at the top of his lungs like a banshee, he was coiled and ready to explode, his whiskey bottle raised, Harry was the only target in sight and in that moment, all Harry could do was cower into the corner of his room and plead for his life.</p><p> </p><p>Harry remembered the pain, the agony each punch and kick left, the numbing feeling that overcame his body, leaving him trembling and begging for mercy. He never imagined going through it again, the first time had left him with nightmares and yet here he was, reliving it.</p><p>Time seemed to slow down, excruciatingly slow. All the sounds around him became distant, as though he was running away from the moment, that's exactly what his mind was doing, it was taking him away from the situation. Harry could hear the faint cries — almost screams — from Liam as Damien's foot collided with his side once again, though it was like listening in from the other side of the window, where they should have been in the beginning. The sound of his breath was whistling through his ears, overpowering the slurs and screams from the two other people in his old bedroom.</p><p>Why couldn't Liam have just listened? Why did they have to break in?</p><p>Where was his shooting star when he needed him. Harry was counting on Louis bursting through the door, dragging Damien away and saving him like he always seemed to do. Louis appeared when he was in a bit of trouble, so he should be here any second. He should be whispering in Harry's ear that everything's going to be okay, sweeping him off his feet once again and taking care of him. Harry imagined how the lad would come into the room like the Caped Crusader, towering over his abuser like he was nothing but an ant under his boot.</p><p>Though, that moment never came. Louis wasn't here to rescue him, to be the light in his darkest moment, to burst through the room like a soldier clad in silver and ready to take a bullet for him. In that moment all Harry could seem to focus on was what his star might be doing, what he could possibly be filling his own time with.</p><p>As the sounds seemed to dull down even more, perhaps where he was so invested in his own thoughts, it drowned everything else out, saving him from the harsh reality that was taking place around him.</p><p>"Harry..."</p><p>They say, when you experience a near-death experience, your life flashes before your eyes, a rapid visual of the history of said life. It usually depended on the person and what their life was filled with, a lot of people see their loved one, joyous memories from childhood and perhaps adult hood too; Harry could only see one person.</p><p>Harry's life was flashing before his eyes, flickers of his mum and sister, the three of them cuddled up on the porch swing and sharing silly stories and how the rope had snapped one day, sliding them all off and on top of his mum. He remembered the feeling of security and the faith he had that nothing could ever hurt him as long as he was in those arms, wrapping around them both like a tight life jacket, keeping them afloat. He saw a glimmer of Liam, the two of them playing football outside this very house, smaller feet padding after each other, the air no longer so tight and filled with laughter, not an ounce of disquietude. </p><p>Zayn and Niall appeared too, both with an impish grin plastered on those familiar faces, ones Harry would never forget, even after he was long gone. He saw the day they had moved into the flat, how all three of them stood outside staring up at the large rustic building, fresh-faced uni students without a care in the world, all making jokes about what they were going to get up to in their new abode.</p><p>The ground suddenly opened up from under him, leaving the feeling as though he was free falling into a dark abyss, falling for an eternity before he felt those familiar arms around him, grounding him once again. The darkness lifted, fading away as his thoughts were dusted with light from the lustre of the figures skin as it approached him.</p><p>Was this the person who would take him to the next life, the stranger that would guide him into the light? Each step that brought the outlander closer, revealed more details, the once soft, blurry features now sharp and clear. Those piercing blue orbs now staring at him, a strong hand on each bicep, holding him in place. He was in that distracting and slightly transparent tank top again,  keeping him steady just like the night he had caught him from falling off the table. Harry remembered how the firm hold left a burning sensation under his skin, as though it has sparked a fire within him.</p><p>There stood his saviour, Louis.</p><p>"Harry..."</p><p>A wave of memories washed over him, wholesome images of Louis in his apartment, tucked underneath him on the compact sofa, their lips connected in a passionate kiss — star-crossed lovers sharing their final kiss. The images in his head soon moved from memories to those created from his imagination. His mind was filled with enchanting ideas of the life he could possibly live with Louis, how they could fill their days tucked away in his room, snuggled up on his window seat, talking about what they were going to cook for dinner. He thought about how he would come home after a long day at work and be enveloped by the man's strong and comforting arms, his fingers trailing over his skin, any stress leaving his body like it was attracted to his static fingertips. He could imagine Louis whispering sweet nothings in his ear that would drain away any doubt in his mind.</p><p>The grip on his shoulders got tighter, rougher, being drawn out of his thoughts and back to reality, where things had fallen silent once again. He wasn't dead. He was living, breathing; his eyes were still shut, not daring to lose the sight of Louis.</p><p>"Harry..."</p><p>Third times a charm, right?</p><p>Harry finally allowed his eyes to flutter open, his somewhat hazy gaze falling upon Liam, who had a concerned expression plastered across his face. He looked past Liam, emerging from his thoughts had left him completely disorientated, searching the somber room for the devil.</p><p>Yet Damien was nowhere in sight, the bedroom door was still shut and Liam was stood before him, shirtless and clearly trying to work out what had just happened.</p><p>"We have to get out of here, Liam." Harry breathed out, scrambling out of the man's touch. The firm hold on each bicep no longer felt safe, not like how Louis' made him feel, the touch felt foreign all over again.</p><p>"Hold on a minute, Harry." Liam pleaded, turning to look at Harry who was already standing by the broken window, breathing heavily. "Was the kiss that bad?"</p><p>"No. No, I just- I can't risk being here, Liam. Not again." Harry stated, itching to climb back out of his old room. He had left all of this in the past for a reason.</p><p>"Come on, Harry. Talk to me, you froze up. I know we've had a bit to drink but I thought you felt it too. I saw the way you were looking at me."</p><p>"We're not talking about this here." Harry warned, spinning on his heel and tried to climb out of the shattered glass.</p><p>"Harry." Liam tried, stumbling over to Harry and trying to stop him from scampering off into the night.</p><p>"No, Liam! I'm not staying here any longer. I shouldn't have listened to you."</p><p>Harry felt those cold hands wrapping around his wrists, a distant feeling even though Liam was inches away from him. It didn't hold the same feeling as Louis' did, like nothing could ever hurt him as long as Louis was there. No, Liam's grasp carried a darkness with it, the same darkness that surrounded Damien.</p><p>That's when the towering door swung open on the opposite side of the room, a seething man stood in the doorway with a wooden bat, clad in a grey and black pinstriped dressing and a tatty pair of slippers with a fluffy trim over the bridge of his feet. His shoulders were hunched up while his wrinkling hands were wrapped tightly around a baseball bat.</p><p>"What the fuck-" Damien screeched, raising the bat slightly as he seemed to try and identify the two men in his house.</p><p>The panic soon set in. This was real, no flash backs this time, he really was in the room with the devil and Cerberus — the watchdog of the underworld. It was said that he was a dog with three heads that devoured anyone who attempted to leave the kingdom of Hades, others said he had fifty, had heads of snacks growing out of his back and even had a serpent's tail.</p><p>Perhaps that was a more fitting description of the friend that stood before him, he had to have an ulterior motive, why would he have just come back into Harry's life like this?</p><p>Harry quickly pulled his arm back in an attempt to escape the attack that was about to take place, using his foot to push his friend back by a fraction but in doing so, he lost his balance on windowsill, causing him to topple back. He landed into a pile of mud and leaves, hissing at the pain he suddenly felt in the palm of his hand. Harry scrambled to his feet and started to run, hearing a rustle from the leaves behind him. He could only assume it was Liam scampering after him to avoid the punishment from his father.</p><p>"Harry, slow down." Liam called out, his footsteps getting louder as he seemingly got closer.</p><p>His feet couldn't carry him fast enough, the adrenaline kicking in once again and fuelling the movement in his legs. He felt as though he was on a treadmill, each step he took got him nowhere, all his surroundings stretching out and getting further away. It was like he was trapped, no matter how hard he tried to escape, he always found himself back here again.</p><p>"Harry! Stop running."</p><p>Two firm hands landed on Harry's shoulders, forcing him to come to a halt. Harry snapped his head round to look at which of hell's creatures had captured him, hoping with every bone in his body that it was the lesser evil.</p><p>"Will you just stop! He's not following us. He never was." Liam panted, bending his knees slightly to try and catch his breath, moving a hand from Harry's shoulder to his thigh. "What the hell has gotten into you?"</p><p>"He- Why did you make me do it, Liam! I warned you." Harry yelled at him, giving his old friend a rough shove to get his traitorous hands away from him.</p><p>That was when Harry saw the blood, trickling down the man's still bare chest, directly where his own hand had just been. He's eyes switched from Liam's peck to his own hand, groaning as reality hit and the adrenaline wore off. Liam's gaze soon met Harry's hand too, moving quickly to wrap his shirt around the open wound.</p><p>"You must have caught it on the window on your way-" Liam whispered calmly, as if he was trying not to get Harry worked up more than he already was.</p><p>"This wouldn't have happened if you had listened to me!" Harry snapped, stumbling away from Liam like he was diseased and he had a chance of catching it.</p><p>"Alright, I was in the wrong for doing it in the first place, but that's not the only reason you are freaking out on me." Liam tried to defend himself, causing Harry to scoff at the man's words and try to walk away.</p><p>Harry heard the frustrated groan leave Liam's mouth, followed by the padding of feet behind him. He knew that his friend wasn't going to drop the subject, he was as stubborn as they day they had met — they had become friends after an intense debate about whether Curious George had a tail, Liam was certain he did, Harry on the other hand knew it had never been there. Liam still believed he had a tail to this day.</p><p>"Will you stop running for once? You can't keep doing this, Harry. You have to face up to it at some point."</p><p>The comment made Harry's blood boil, feeling as though anger was oozing out of his pores with each word that left Liam's lips.</p><p>"What, like you did? Ran off and decided to turn up again out of the blue after years?" Harry yelled, holding the shirt around his hand tighter.</p><p>"I didn't run away, Harry."</p><p>"Yes, you did! You left without a word, avoided me like the fucking plague!"</p><p>"Well do you blame me, Harry? You dad nearly killed us. You expected me to stick around after that? You ran from it too, still are." Liam argued, quickening his pace to step in front of Harry.</p><p>"I didn't have anyone to talk to Liam. No one that would understand like you do. But you weren't around."</p><p>"Well I'm here now, Harry."</p><p>"Exactly, why are you here? It still doesn't make sense and why in the world did you think it was a good idea to kiss me after all this time?."</p><p>"I came back to see you, Harry. I told you that. I wanted to find you again and get my friend back... I missed what we had, the fooling around, the little kisses we used to share behind closed doors. I saw the way you were looking at me tonight." Liam rambled on, trying to explain himself to Harry, though it wasn't the answer he wanted.</p><p>"I wasn't looking at you, Liam... Zayn was, he likes you. We were talking about you and his feelings. You got the wrong idea." Harry grunted through gritted teeth, lifting his hand up a little in an attempt to ease the pain.</p><p>"So the kiss was that bad?..." Liam said slowly, drawing out his words, trying to lighten the mood but it only riled Harry up more.</p><p>"No, it's not that, Liam.." Harry sighed, trying to ignore the pain in his hand, stepping past Liam and starting to walk again.</p><p>"Then what is it? I thought it would feel right... Remind you of when you did like me."</p><p>"I don't want to cross that line again, make the same mistake. Plus I couldn't do that to Zayn." Harry tried, hearing Liam stumble after him once more.</p><p>"I don't believe you. That's never stopped you before."</p><p>"Well that's what stopped me this time, I care about-"</p><p>"You're lying, Harry.."</p><p>Harry stopped in his tracks and turned to Liam with a stern look. "I care about Zayn, I'm not going to hurt him li-"</p><p>"What's the real reason?" Liam pressed, giving Harry an amused look.</p><p>"You're not him! Okay?" Harry finally bellowed, shoving Liam back for pressing the matter so much. "The only guy I want kissing me, isn't here.. So, yes. The kiss was that bad. Happy now?"</p><p>"Yeah, I am. I'm glad you're finally being honest." Liam chuckled a little, being the first to walk away this time around. Harry groaned as he hurried to catch up with his friend, a little thrown off by how blasé he was the whole situation.</p><p>
  <em>Chk, chk, chk.</em>
</p><p>Three scratches from Liam's old lighter before Harry saw the warm glow from the flame light up Liam's features, sparking up the joint that was nestled between his dry lips. Liam took a long drag, letting the smoke settle before blowing it out the side of his mouth.</p><p>That was how he dealt with it, getting high.</p><p>"Have some and chill out. It'll help with the pain in your hand." Liam stated, flicking his wrist towards Harry, offering him the joint tucked between his fingers.</p><p>If you can't beat them, join them.</p><p>The two of them wandered down the street, taking it in turns to take drags from the joint under the faint orange glow of the street lamps overhead, both seeming to be in their own little world, giggling and whispering like two naughty school kids in the back of a classroom.</p><p>After both agreeing that Harry should probably get his hand checked out at the hospital, they found themselves sitting on a bench outside the hospital, staring at the automatic sliding door as people constantly flooded in and out of the building. Harry couldn't help but wonder why they were here, what had happened in their own life for them to end up here, the second worst place in the world — in his eyes anyway.</p><p>"I know you're scared of this place." Liam started, resting a hand on Harry's thigh for a moment, trying to comfort him but it just made him shift awkwardly in place. "But it's okay. They'll check your hand over and we'll be home within the next few hours."</p><p>"I'm not scared of the place, I just don't like the memories it brings back... I never want to be back in that position, Li." Harry huffed, rotating his head slightly to let his gaze meet Liam's, both of them just staring at each other, inching closer and closer by the second.</p><p>Before Harry could even think twice about it, their lips were connected in yet another gentle kiss. This time there were no flashbacks, nothing drawing him away from the minty taste that lingered on Liam's lips. Their lips moved lazily together, often just gazing along the other like they were afraid to ruin the moment with any sense of passion or affection.</p><p>Harry was about to shuffle closer to Liam and wrap an arm around the lad when he suddenly caught his cut hand on the bench, letting out a pained yelp. It was a blessing in disguise, Harry couldn't believe he had let it happen again.</p><p>Call it a moment of bad judgement, blame it on the weed, but Harry had done it and the guilt was already creeping in, making his fair skin itch.</p><p>Harry cleared his throat in an attempt to remove the lump in his throat, trying not to choke on his own disgrace. How could he do this to Zayn? What kind of friend did that make him?</p><p>Without another word, Harry got to his feet and strolled into the building, leaving Liam on the bench with his jaw open ajar. He couldn't think about it right now, not how it made him easy, nor the fact that this always happened when he was high or drunk. He was a walking disaster. After pulling his curls out of the tightly wrapped bun, he slowly started to unravel the shirt that was now relatively soaked in his blood, checking the damage now that he couldn't feel the pain.</p><p>He was too focused on the wide wound — it stretched from his thumb to his pinky and Harry was sure he could see muscle underneath all the blood — to see the man appear from the neighbouring hallway. Harry's broad body collided with the strangers slimmer frame, losing his footing and landing on the laminate flooring with a heavy thud.</p><p>"Look where y-" Harry began as his eyes trailed up the stranger, taking in the blue scrubs that they were clad in. "Sorry..."</p><p>"What are you doing here?..."</p><p>This had to be some sick joke? What kind of strings was the puppet master pulling for Harry to end up here?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I really hope you enjoy this chapter.<br/>Once again, I apologise for taking so long to write it and get it up.<br/>All comments, kudos and bookmarks are very much appreciated! x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. 07</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I want to thank Anni once again for motivating me and aiding me in writing this chapter. I'd be lost without you :) x</p><p>I apologise for taking so long to get this chapter out, I appreciate your patience and I will get back into the swing of things! x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry had never seen something so glorious, the towering man, clad in a dusty blue nurses uniform with the most charming smile on him. Was it too cliche to say that Harry loved a man in uniform, didn't everybody find a person in uniform more attractive? Perhaps it was the idea of the importance that it symbolised, letting everyone else know who was in charge in certain situations.</p><p>"You really are falling for me aren't you, Harry." Louis hummed proudly, a shit-eating-grin plastered across his face as he crouched down beside him, aiding him in sitting up. "This is the second time I've swept you off your feet."</p><p>Harry couldn't quite say how long he had been laying on the floor, staring up at the man, feeling as though his body was glued to the floor. Although Louis' smug words seemed to be a great solvent for it, making him roll his eyes at Louis' words, he couldn't believe how smooth the lad was.</p><p>"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, even if the answer was blatantly obvious.</p><p>"I think the better question is, what are you doing here?" Louis asked, raising an eyebrow and lifting Harry to his feet effortlessly.</p><p>"I don't really know... I think I cut my hand on some glass."</p><p>Even if he did know where he had gotten the cut from, he wasn't about to tell a nurse that he had broken into his — almost absent — father's house, got caught and ran like a spooked kitten, attempting to flee any possible danger.</p><p>"Well, looking at the blood on that top, it might need stitches." Louis informed him, placing a hand gently to the base of Harry's spine and beginning to lead him in the right direction. "But I'll check it out and we'll take it from there, okay?"</p><p>Harry could hear the comforting tone Louis was using and in a way, it was pretty patronising, it was the same sort of voice a lot of people used to calm down their screaming children. It was evident that Louis made a good nurse, compassionate, clearly an empath with how he seemed to take on Harry's problems and dramas without judgement, understanding where Harry was coming from without instantly shutting him down.</p><p>"I'm going to ask again... What are you doing here?" Harry piped up, holding his hand close to his chest as they strolled down the practically empty hallway, giving Harry an uneasy feeling.</p><p>"Don't worry, I'm capable of checking out a wound." Louis teased, having picked up on the change in Harry's body language.</p><p>"Just because you're good with a needle, doesn't mean you can sew my skin together."</p><p>"Oh, I wouldn't be able to anyway... Haven't got my sewing machine with me." Louis smirked, winking at Harry.</p><p>Harry appreciated Louis' attempt to make him feel more comfortable, even if he did feel a little pathetic for being so unsettled by hospitals, feeling as though his reasoning behind it wasn't exactly justified. He was more impressed with himself for being able to remember that Louis was a textiles student or so he had been told. Maybe that was just a fragment of his imagination, something his mind had come up with to fill in some of the gaps that were left.</p><p>Louis was still a mystery.</p><p>Although, he was getting irritated that Louis seemed to be avoiding the question at hand. "Well?" He asked and let out a small huff as he was guided into the chair in a small cubical, cordoned off by a thin paper-like curtain.</p><p>"I'm doing a nurse apprenticeship." Louis simply shrugged as he placed his hands on the back of Harry's hand, turning it over and gently unravelling the bloodstained shirt that was tightly wound around the wound.</p><p>"Alongside the textiles? Is that even possible?"</p><p>"My textiles course is only part time. I'm only there three days a week and then the rest of my days I'm here." Louis stated, his eyes focused on Harry's hand rather than the man himself, checking how deep Harry's laceration was.</p><p>Harry sucked a sharp and quick breath through his gritted teeth, his face scrunching up a little while Louis delicately moved the skin on Harry's palm to inspect the lesion.</p><p>"Sorry, love." Louis whispered and offered him a polite smile. "I'm gonna clean it up for you, okay? Then I'll consult with the doctor on if we're going to do stitches or Steristrips." He added with a hum, as though he was agreeing with himself, turning away to get his supplies to clean the wound.</p><p>"Please no stitches, anything but stitches." Harry begged suddenly, clearing his throat once the desperate words had fallen out his plump pink lips. The idea of stitches had shot a sense of panic straight through him, having not wanted to be here in the first place, he wanted to make this visit dramatically different to the last time he was here. "I'll walk out. No one is coming near me with a needle. Injections or sewing needles"</p><p>"Well, if I'm being honest... Looking at your red eyes, your state of elevated panic, which I understand could be a general fear of hospitals and the fact that you reek of weed, I don't think we will be able to do the stitches." Louis chuckled softly, lightly brushing a few loose curls out of Harry's clammy forehead with his dainty fingertips.</p><p>"What? I-I'm not— You've got the wrong idea." Harry tried to argue but Louis simply hushed him and Harry noticed the tranquil smile on his face.</p><p>"It's alright, Harry. You're not the first person to come in high. It just means we can't exactly use the local anaesthetic." Louis breathed, suddenly taking a knee and looking up at Harry to meet his gaze once again. "You know what doctors are like, if there's a little bit of evidence that shows that something can affect medication, they advise against it and anyway I don't think your hand is bad enough that you need stitches. So don't get yourself worked up, okay?"</p><p>Harry couldn't help but nod his head quickly to Louis' words, his voice soothing washing over him like a tidal wave, one that had knocked him off his feet and let him with the feeling that he was floating, drifting closer to the shore where Louis stood with that infatuating smile. Harry could see him in the distance, his hand held out, glowing palms — much like ET's finger. That was the star aspect in him, guiding Harry through the dark, being the light that would lead him to the safety of his arms.</p><p>"Harry?"</p><p>"Sorry." Harry cleared his throat once again, blinking excessively as he was drawn back into reality and turned his focus back to the smile stretched across Louis' face.</p><p>"You're all good." Louis promised, letting his fingers run through Harry's hair for a moment, helping him regain his focus. "Thought I lost you there for a moment. Tell me what got you so entranced? Where did that clever brain of yours take you?" He chuckled and began to clean Harry's wound.</p><p>"Not a lot... I was on the beach, in the sea, actually, staring back at the shore for a familiar face."</p><p>"Did you find one? Is that why you began to smile?"</p><p>"Yeah, I guess." Harry murmured, gazing down to his hand to see what Louis was doing.</p><p>"Keep your head up, love." Louis instructed, placing a finger under Harry's chin and lifting it up slowly. "Tell me about this familiar face."</p><p>Harry wouldn't dare to admit his mind was filled with nothing but mesmerising images of Louis, certainly not to the angels face. He wouldn't mention the way he lost all cognitive ability the moment he saw the corners of Louis' lips turn up, how it made him all giddy inside knowing that any second he would see that captivating smile. He looked forward to seeing that sparkle in Louis' eyes when they spoke about something they were passionate about, just like the night they had sat on the window seat and stargazed together. Harry remembered how the cerulean blue eyes met his emerald ones, filled with admiration and astonishment as he himself blabbered on about the stars that they could see from the window.</p><p>"I'm losing you again, Harold." Louis laughed, filled with so much joy that it made him squint, his cheeks raised to draw his grin out and Harry felt those intense butterflies all over again. "I'm gonna have to work a lot harder at knocking you off your feet, this person seems to have you hypnotised."</p><p>"It's no one special, just thinking about family and whatnot. Distracting myself from the pain."</p><p>"Well, let me go and speak to the doctor and when I get back I want to hear all about your family while I get you all fixed up." Louis grinned, getting to his feet and resting a clean gauze over Harry's cut.</p><p>Harry watched the nurse walk out of the room, shamelessly letting his eyes drop to his hips as they swayed side to side with each step he took. The uniform hugging his hips in the most quintessential way, even if it did look like his ass was about to burst out the seams. His behind was curvier than Aunt Fanny from the film Robots, a terrible analogy but in a way nothing seemed to do his ass any justice.</p><p>How could this man get any more intriguing? He was full of surprises, leaving Harry eager to know more about him. It was bizarre though, he never seemed to find out much about him, Louis always seemed to bewitch him and he ended up rambling on about himself. He needed to make an effort to get something new out of the lad, the end goal would actually be for him to remember it in the morning because — once again — he was under the influence of a narcotic.</p><p>He sat patiently on the chair, squinting his eyes ever so slightly as he looked around the isolated area with the curtain, trying to listen in on the conversations that were taking place around him, hoping to distract himself from his own problems.</p><p>It was some sort of relief to hear other people's troubles, some of them helped him realise that his own weren't as serious as he'd hyped them up to be. In a world where people are living in constant fear of their abusive partners or parents, where children are going hungry and thousands are dying daily, his problems were so minuscule.</p><p>He was simply one person out of the seven and a half billion people in the world, he was so insignificant and therefore so were his problems. Even though it felt like the entire world was against him sometimes, in reality he was simply a speck on the map, just like the paint on that lavender jumper in Pictor's room.</p><p>That was what Harry needed to ask this time round, whether Louis was into art too. Art, nursing and Textiles? It seemed too much, where would he find the time to do any paintings or charcoal drawings in-between textiles classes and working his shifts here.</p><p>In that moment, Harry started to feel the disappointment sink in, Pictor and Louis weren't the same person. Louis was his stargazing chum, the shooting star that seemed to come and go when Harry needed him and Pictor was back to being a mystery man, though Harry hoped he wasn't about to lose his mind over a man he didn't know.</p><p>He had Louis for that.</p><p>"No that's just obsessive." Harry muttered to himself, shaking his head roughly as he came to the realisation.</p><p>"What's going on in that noggin of yours, star boy?" Louis sang as he stepped back into the room, the steristrips clasped in his hands.</p><p>A smile stretched across Harry's face, the nickname mixed with the use of the bizarre slang -- one that certainly wasn't used around him while growing up -- made him chuckle.</p><p>Louis was different. He could light up a room the moment he walked in and so effortlessly, was it any surprise that Harry saw him as his shooting star? Harry was considering changing his nickname, seeing as he wasn't Pictor anymore. Circinus, perhaps? The constellation's name meant 'the compass' in latin and that was rather fitting, was it not? Louis was so alluring, so powerfully and mysteriously attractive that Harry couldn't stop himself from being pulled into his orbit any time he passed by. Just like a compass, Louis was always guiding him to where he needed to be.</p><p>Harry let out a sigh as he noticed the strips nestled in the palm of Louis' hand, knowing he didn't have to be sewn up was enough to get him to relax into the chair properly — as he should have been from the start.</p><p>"You're always lost beneath those chestnut curls." Louis commented, placing himself on his knees and back in front of Harry once more. "Does that run in your family? Are you all visionaries?"</p><p>"No, just me. The daydreamer." Harry simply shrugged, averting his gaze from his hand when Louis began to touch it.</p><p>"Tell me about your mum, Harry. Keep talking for me, yeah? Is she as wonderful as you?"</p><p>"My mothers a saint, always has been and she always will be. She did everything for us as kids, made sure we were happy and healthy. She's not been well over the last few years and still she tried to put me and my sister first. She's one of the strongest women I know, I'm so incredibly proud to call her my mum. All the shit life has thrown at her, she still comes out smiling." Harry rambled on, doing so in an attempt to distract himself from the pain and panic.</p><p>"She sounds lovely. What about your sister, hm?"</p><p>"She's a little older than me, a literal genius and just the kindest soul. She takes after mum really, another saint. Even though she's older than me, I feel so protective of them both. They don't deserve the heartache they have been put through. I'm the man of the house, you know? I'm the one who has to make sure they're kept out of harm's way. Wish I could-" Harry cut himself off and hissed at the pain, trying to snatch his hand away from Louis.</p><p>Opening up to Louis came to him so easily, as though it was what he was meant to be doing all along. It was Louis' unexplainable magnetic pull that had Harry feeling at ease, like he had known the man for years, he felt that he was safe when he was around.</p><p>"Sounds like they've been through quite a bit then? They're lucky to have you there for them. But what about you, Harry? Who's been there for you?" Louis asked, wrapping his fingers around Harry's wrist to tug his hand back towards him. "I'm almost done, okay?"</p><p>"Oh no. I'm just being dramatic." He lied easily, offering up a forced smile. "I just mean like breakups and what not. Want them to be treated right."</p><p>"So both of them are dating? Are they both in happy relationships?"</p><p>"Pretty much, I guess. Mum has been with her boyfriend for a while now, he makes her happy." The image of Robin — black and blue — creeping back into his mind with each word that fell from his lips.</p><p>"That's great, no? You don't seem too sure about it?" Louis commented, clearly picking up on the way Harry's body went rigid. "What about your dad?"</p><p>That was all it took to take Harry over the edge. "I have to go." He choked out suddenly, snatching his hand away and getting to his feet. "Coming here was a complete mistake." He added, grabbing Liam's dirty shirt, parting the pale blue curtain and striding over to the door.</p><p>The moment his hand touched the cold steel handle, his breath hitched, his mouth feeling drier than the Sahara Desert — no amount of swallowing would be able to quench the dryness. His breathing started to pick up as he turned the knob, taking a long, slow deep breath and rounded the doorframe, leaning back against the wall in the hallway. All the sounds around him were drowned out once again, he could hear his name being called, albeit through a glass window or through a thin wall.</p><p>"Hey. Can you focus on me for a second, Harry?" Louis voiced muffled through the turmoil that was taking place in his brain.</p><p>Louis had taken hold of Harry's trembling, uninjured hand, his head snapping around to catch the man's comforting gaze. The touch seemed to ground him. Although, the pins and needles were rather intense between his clammy hand and Louis' palm, making him desperate to scratch at the skin.</p><p>"Take a slow breath with me okay, Harry? I'm right here." Louis whispered softly, gently running his velvet thumb over the back of Harry's hand.</p><p>"C-Can't. Breathe." Harry stuttered, his chest visible rigidifying with each breath he took, it was as though his throat and chest were closing up.</p><p>Louis' moved his free hand, placing it on Harry's tensing chest and tapped his index finger on the exposed skin.</p><p>"I know it feels like that now, but watch me. We'll do it together. In for five..." Louis started to breathe in, tapping his finger to count to five. "And out for five..." He added as he let out a slow and steady breath himself.</p><p>It took Harry a few attempts but he eventually managed to match Louis' breathing, using the technique to help him focus on Louis and the way his chest rose and fell with each breath.</p><p>"I'm sorry for bringing him up. I won't again. Let me wrap your hand up and I can send you home, alright, love?" Louis hummed, brushing his hair out of his face ever so lightly. Harry nodded slowly and kept his back pressed against the wall. "I'll do it here, no need to come back into the room."</p><p>Louis waited for a moment, making sure Harry was slightly more settled before he headed back into the room to grab the bandage.</p><p>The blood was still pounding in Harry's ears. His hands trembling and feet itchy, ready to run at the slightest of inconveniences. Even though Louis had managed to steady his breathing, Harry's chest still hurt, the heart palpitations combined with his numbing fingers was getting Harry worked up all over again. He was dying. That was it. Harry was having a heart attack and he was going to keel over at any moment.</p><p>"Harry... Hey, look at me."</p><p>Where was the closest exit? Who would he bump into if he made a run for it now and how far would his legs take him? Could he run the entire way back to the apartment?</p><p>As much as Harry wanted to disappear, to run like a whippet at the races, he couldn't. His feet were frozen in place. Everyone around him seemed to be at a distance — unreachable.</p><p>No air. No escape. No one to help him, all alone in the lifeless hallway.</p><p>His lungs were screaming for the oxygen they had been deprived of and that was when he finally let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.</p><p>"It's okay, love. You're safe... I'm here." Louis breathed, lightly dragging his nimble fingers through Harry's curls — tightened by the salty sweat from his head, resetting his light curl pattern — to gain his attention.</p><p>Harry's head snapped round, his eyes landing on the soft features of the nurse that stood before him, his shamrock eyes wide as he tried to calm down once more.</p><p>"How about we walk to the front of the hospital, get you some fresh air and I can wrap your hand up out there?" He suggested, taking hold of Harry's hand ever so gently. "We can take as long as you need, okay?"</p><p>Louis was the first person to take a step forward, Harry's eyes glued to his dirty white sneakers, focusing on the slight squeak they made against the vinyl floor. "Just one step, Harry."</p><p>One step. That's all he had to do.</p><p>Harry lightly tapped his finger on the man's wrists. One, two, three, four and five — breathing out as he counted down in his head. The tapping seemed to help him regain that rhythm that Louis had taught him.</p><p>One step. He took it — after what felt like an eternity — and lifted his head to see the proud smile appear on Louis' porcelain skin.</p><p>"Y-You need a sun tan." Harry choked out, furrowing his eyebrows slightly.</p><p>His mother had told him, 'when things feel overwhelming, focus on one thing that stands out amongst everything else and talk about it until the cows come home.'</p><p>A beautiful sound suddenly reputed from the nurse ahead of him, radiating pure joy. There it was again, the childlike laughter, still untouched by the reality of life. It broke through the noise in Harry's head and put him at ease, much like a bird song echoing through an open field, surrounded by willow trees — the exact ones Harry eventually wanted in his back garden. His tranquil place, nothing could hurt him there, sat under the willow tree with Louis.</p><p>"Thank you, Harry." Louis chuckled, shaking his head ever so slightly and looking back with a fond smile. "How do you intend on getting me a tan in sunny old England?" His tone thick with sarcasm.</p><p>"Not in England... Hawaii perhaps, or South Africa?" Harry said timidly, his grip getting a little tighter around the nurses hand. His feet finally picked up a little speed.</p><p>"You're going to take me to South Africa?"</p><p>"N-No. I just me- They're places I would go to get a tan..."</p><p>"Really? Because I think there's an ulterior motive. Why those places?" Louis questioned, a smirk spreading across his lips. "If I know you well enough... It'll have something to do with stars right?"</p><p>Harry blinked slowly, his cheeks burning as they were dusted in a faint pink shade. "Well, yeah. Hawaii has a place called Mauna Kea. It's evolving into one of the words premier astronomy destinations. It's one of the only places in the world where you can drive fourteen thousand feet from sea level in about two hours. Hawaii is full of trails that can lead you higher off the ground, closer to the stars." Harry rambled on — talking till the cows came home.</p><p>"And what about South Africa?"</p><p>"Well the flat savanna in Kruger National Park means its an ideal terrain for seeing the Southern Cross, Scorpio and the rings of Saturn by binoculars. Plus the wildlife makes it all that bit more exciting."</p><p>"You're adorable when you get all star crazy, you know that?" Louis chuckled as he slowly let go of Harry's hand. "I'll have to add both those destinations to my bucket list then. Though, you'd have to come with me to show me what I'm actually looking at."</p><p>They were outside. They had walked the long halls without Harry even realising it and now Louis was suggesting going away with him. Harry looked around shakily, wondering if his oldest friend was still waiting on the bench for him. But he was nowhere to be seen.</p><p>"Right. Let me cover that hand up and then I'll call you a cab, since I can't walk you home tonight." Louis hummed, a smirk developing across his lips. He guided Harry's hand from his side to the gap between them and began to swaddle Harry's hand.</p><p>Louis' fingers trailed over Harry's skin, lingering against his wrist as he placed a small square of tape across the end of the bandage to hold it in place. Just as he did so, time seemed to come to a halt. Everyone around them no longer mattered — or even existed. It was just them.</p><p>For a moment, Harry wished that there was a tape that would keep them connected in this way, to keep them in place just like his tightly wound bandage, for the remainder of the night. Their lost souls finding each other in the darkness of their eyes, as if they truly were the brightest stars in their own lonely sky, guiding them right back to one another. If life were generous enough, that invisible tape would be strong enough to keep them together for the rest of their lives.</p><p>Was that a little far fetched? He wondered how he could possibly feel so attached to a man who was practically a stranger. He was left longing to spend each and every night just like this one — minus the trip to the hospital, of course.</p><p>Longing for touch was something that Harry definitely wasn't used to, even the thought of it made his skin crawl. But with Louis, it was different. Each nudge, pat and graze felt like electricity flowing through his veins, straight to his weakened heart.</p><p>"Right, well... Let me call you a cab." Louis cleared his throat, dropping his hands back down to his sides to pull out his phone. He turned his back to Harry as he sought for an available taxi at the pick up point.</p><p>Just like that, the moment had slipped through Harry's fingers, the sand in their hourglass reduced to the final grains and he had no idea on how to turn it around. He didn't want to beg Louis to touch him again, to seem desperate for his affection — even if that was the case. He hoped the last grain of sand would take a lifetime to fall.</p><p>"Okay." Louis piped up, looking over his shoulder to meet Harry's conspicuous stare.</p><p>Harry felt his cheeks heat up once more as Louis took a few steps back to place his hand on Harry's lower back and began to lead him over to a parked up taxi. It was the simplest of touches and gestures that left Harry pining like a puppy, yearning for any attention he could get from the man.<br/>
"I have to say this, or I'll be kicking myself in the teeth... I was hoping we could meet up, if and when you have time. I mean on purpose this time? Go for a coffee or something." Harry blurted out as they drew closer to the taxi, his heart pounding so incredibly loud, he was sure Louis could hear it even with the tenuous distance between them.</p><p>The silence from Louis was excruciating. Every second that passed built on his fear, weighing him down more and more, creating a feeling as though he was sinking through the ground beneath him.</p><p>He was mortified, realising he really didn't know enough about Louis to suggest such a thing. Perhaps Louis wasn't into men, or Harry was reading too much into the mans benevolence, worst case scenario was that Harry had asked out another one of the homophobic people in his community — that had to be impossible though, they had made out a few nights prior and Louis had certainly been flirting. He was getting caught up in his own head, panicking over something that was virtually impossible.</p><p>"Are you asking me out on a date, Harry." Louis chortled, crossing his arms across his chest and it was only at that moment that Harry noticed the way Louis' uniform defined his titillating muscles — he couldn't help but ogle at them.</p><p>"Yes... I mean. No. Well." Harry rambled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.</p><p>"I'd love to." Louis smirked and pulled out his phone, offering the unlocked device to Harry. "Pop your number in and I'll text you now so that you have mine."</p><p>Harry gleefully reached out for the phone, letting out a small gasp and popping his bottom lip out when Louis snatched it back slightly, teasing Harrys outstretched hand with it.</p><p>"Only if you promise to text me when you get in, so that I know you got home safely." Louis bargained, raising an eyebrow to Harry, the smirk still plastered across his flushed cheeks. "No text. No coffee."</p><p>"Deal." Harry agreed eagerly, clearing his throat at his obvious desperation.</p><p>With that, Harry was offered the phone once again where he hastily tapped in his number before handing the dimly lit device back.</p><p>A gentle snicker passed Louis' lips, setting off the butterflies in Harry's stomach as he waited for Louis to say something.</p><p>'Starboy. Good choice.' Reads the text from Louis, the soft glow from his phone illuminating his foolish little grin. 'And what do you intend on calling me?' </p><p>'Circinus.'</p><p>"I can't even pronounce that, Harry." Louis chuckled, shaking his head lazily and stuffing his phone back into his pocket. "Something star related I guess?"</p><p>"Do you even know me?" Harry teased, rolling his eyes playfully before opening the car door for himself.</p><p>"Get home safely. Remember to let me know when you are, Starboy." Louis whispered, the door tucked under his arm as he leant into the car slightly. "I'm gutted I can't go home with you tonight. I was hoping to get the chance to feel that gorgeous silk against my skin..." He purred lowly before closing the door and tapping the roof, signalling to the driver to start moving.</p><p>With parted lips, Harry spent the next few minutes trying to fathom the words that had Louis' mouth and how unruffled the sentence was, leaving him curious as to if the man was serious or simply being quizzical.</p><p>He reflected on their serendipitous evening together and how their bodies had become intertwined. He wondered how they fit together, pressed together so tightly that they were almost one person. Though, being tangled up with the man — making out messily — felt like home, like it was exactly where he was meant to be.</p><p>The universe had finally been kind to him, it had brought the moon. No need for a lasso to pull it down. No need for an impossible struggle to bring it closer. Louis was here, close enough to touch but not quite his. Perhaps he would need that tape again. He wondered if he could trade it in for some rope — much like the inked one that was wrapped around Louis' wrist — to be able to ground him, stop him from shooting off once more. </p><p>The moon may belong to everyone at night, but during the day Harry would claim it. He would keep it in his room, let it feed and aid his plants in growing, it would add to the tranquility of his room, fit in like the last piece to his jigsaw, sliding right into place.</p><p>All Harry wanted to do now was get back to his flat and tell Zayn all about his evening. How the evening had escalated so quickly after he and Liam had left the party. He wanted to tell him all about how he had bumped into Louis yet again and had actually gotten his number this time, how he had noticed the pearlescent silk shirt he had been wearing and how he was grateful that he hadn't commented on the blood stains on it. he would go on to tell him about... Well that was all.</p><p>"Oh, for fuck sake." Harry grunted under his breath, pressing his broad back into the seat, offering an apologetic smile to the driver when he looked at him through his rearview mirror.</p><p>Once again Harry had parted from Louis without gaining much more information. He was no closer to discovering who Louis was as a person, if he was his Pictor or simply his Circinus. Could he finally forget about Pictor all together? Move on and focus on the man who was actually present in his life — or was about to be.</p><p>That was another point. Zayn. The two had left the party without saying a single thing, disappearing into the night to go on their own little adventure. He was probably wondering where Harry had ventured off to with his love interest.</p><p>After sitting in deafening silence for around fifteen minutes, the cab driver pulled up outside, positioned just behind a dusty, cream coloured Beetle. His dusty, cream coloured Beetle.</p><p>"Cheers, mate." Harry muttered, slowly pulling out his wallet to pay the man.</p><p>"No need, fella. All been paid for."</p><p>Harry just smiled, thanking the man once more before slipping out of the car. As he walked up the drive, he gave his car a sidelong glance. Deep folds appeared on his forehead as he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as to how it was here, he was certain he had seen it at his fathers earlier that evening.</p><p>As he passed the front windscreen and bonnet, he spotted a tatty slip of paper trapped under his windscreen wipers, rustling in the light, late night breeze. He collected it and headed into the flat, toddling up the narrow steps to get to the front door. He had the note lightly clasped between his index and middle finger, using the toe of his shoe to knock on the door — not wanting to have battle with his pocket to obtain his keys — in the hopes that someone was home.</p><p>He pulled the note through his fingers a few times, as if he was swiping a credit card through a scanner, being careful not to give himself a paper cut. After a few more swipes, he elevated the worn paper to his eye line so that he could see it in the dreadfully lit hallway.</p><p>Just as he began to read the ominous note, the heavy door ahead of him swung open promptly, the note plummeting to his side once more.</p><p>"Where the hell have you been? We've been fucking worried sick, Harry." Zayn scolded, grabbing Harry's wrist and hauling him into the flat. "Is Liam with you?"</p><p>"Nope. He fucked off as usual." Harry said, his tone sharp.</p><p>"What happened to your—"</p><p>"Why's my car back on the drive?" Harry interrupted, stepping past his friend to get a bottle of water from the fridge.</p><p>He situated the unread note next to the kettle and stood with his head practically shoved into the fridge, the crisp air kissing his heated skin. He'd gotten distracted from the water for a brief moment as he remembered he needed to text Louis — he had to do it right there and then or he'd forget.</p><p>'I'm home. Thanks for helping me out this evening.x' He typed out, having to delete it a few times to get the spelling correct.</p><p>"The only person with a spare key is..." Harry trailed off as the realisation came to him and suddenly his heart was in his mouth. He snapped his head around to look at Zayn with a pleading gaze.</p><p>"Please tell me he isn't here, Z..." Harry begged, talking long strides to rejoin his friend. </p><p>There was an unsettling silence before he spun on his heal to retrieve the note that had only just been placed down. </p><p>'My dear boy,' Was written on the folded paper and Harry knew exactly who it was from.</p><p>So much for the universe being kind to him.</p>
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